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Our Boys in India 



THE WANDERINGS OF 



TWO YOUNG AMERICANS 



IN HINDUSTAN 



WITH THEIR ADVENTURES ON THE SACRED RIVERS 
AND WILD MOUNTAINS, ETC. 



BY 

HAR-RY W." FRENCH 

AUTHOR OF "castle FOAM," "EGO," " NUNA, THE BRAMIN GIRL,'' 
"gems of GENIUS," ETC. 






TOttf) ©n£ ?^unliret< anti JJ=art2=Jtbe Illustrations 



Cm m 1882 



BOSTON ,xO/>.. ..or,-^otV 



LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS" 

NEW YORK 

CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM 

1883 



Copyright, 1882, 
By lee and SHEPARD. 



All rights reserved. 









University Press : 
John Wilson and Son, Cajirridoe. 



TO MY FRIEND, 

REV. CHARLES W. PARK, 
Slmcrtcan iilififiii0ttarp of ^ombap, 

AS A FEEBLE EXPONENT OF A TROPICAL 
ESTEEM, 

%\)i6 ^oofe 10 2DeDtcateD« 



'^K 




ONTENTS. 



I. A Flash of Lightning 

II. The Wishbone Night ..... 

III. Being Heroes 

IV. Out on the Ocean ..... 
V. Old Joe, the Quartermaster .... 

VI. Whaling off Gibraltar .... 

VII. Algiers and Engineering . . . 

VIII. Sights in the Suez Canal .... 

IX. Arabia and her Water-Babies 

X. Paul among the Hindus . . . . 

XI. Wild Life on the River, and a Hindu Feast 

XII. Scott in the Mysteries of India 

XIII. Snakes . . . 

XIV. In Palanquin and Row-boat 

XV. A Home among the Hindus .... 

XVI. Tigers . 

XVII. A Harem 

XVIII. An Elephant Fight and a Mountain Ride 

XIX. Thugs and Traitors 

XX. Pilgrims, Priests, and People Everywhere 

XXI. Among the Palaces ...... 

XXII. ^Delhi, Dennett, and Dhondaram 

XXIII. Scott at the Hindu Feast .... 

XXIV. You shall be my Hari-Sahib 

XXV. Scott's First Tiger, and Final Prize . 

XXVI. It was my own Dhondaram .... 



I 

9 

i6 
24 
42 
60 

75 
86 
100 
117 
140 
167 

195 
210 

234 
267 
284 

309 
348 
360 
381 

397 
408 
418 
454 
471 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE 

HE Elephant Fight ..... Frotitispiece 

Haying ......... 2 

Roderick Dennett's Wife . . . . -4 

Richard Raymond ....... 5 

By the Sea, and the Pines and the Oaks .... 8 

The Wishbone Night ,11 

The Interview . . . . . . . . . -13 

Richard Raymond and Scott Clayton . . . . 17 

It takes more than Bravery to make a Hero . . . 19 
Bess and her Pet ......... 22 

Where Scott forgot Himself . , 25 

Entering the River Mersey „ . . . . , 29 

Scene in Liverpool . . . . . . . ..31 

The Ragged Newsboy .......'. 38 

Inside a Bus .......... 39 

The Porter's Portion ........ 45 

Old Joe, the Quartermaster . . . . . . -51 

Rocks to Starboard, Rocks to Port, and ' a Cliff Dead 

Ahead . . . . . . . . . . 55 

The Rock of Gibraltar ........ 63 

Moor ready for Action ....... 66 

The Faithful Dog . . .71 

The Despatches must go 73 

In the Bazaar . . -77 

In Memory of a Pleasant Hour . . . . . 81 

On the Suez Canal 89 

viii 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. ix 

PAGE 

In the Captain's Room , . io6 

Paul and the Hag . . . . . . . . .122 

Dhondaram . . . , . . . . . . . 128 

Daughters of Kali . -131 

Boats and Boatmen of the Ganges . . . . . 133 

A Curious Contrivance I37 

Crocodiles 138 

"They are coming to bathe the Idol" 141 

The Mad Elephant ........ 145 

The Long Road 148 

The Goddess Kali 149 

Native Huts . .154 

Native Cart 157 

The Beggar's Boy . '159 

The Hindu Feast 161 

A Narrow Street . 165 

Coast of Bombay 168 

Jugglers 171 

Serpent-Charmers 174 

Fruit-Seller , 177 

Going to Market 178 

To Malabar Hill . .180 

In the Bazaar 183 

Hindu Mendicant 187 

Esofali's House 190 

Five Years Old . 193 

The Cotton-Brokers 196 

Moro 197 

Sayad 198 

Carriage of Hindu Lady . . . . . . . . 201 

More Snake-Charmers 203 

The Crowd became denser . . . . . . . 204 

The Festival of the Serpents ' . 207 

Sapwallah 208 



X LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

The Palanquin 212 

Being Shaved .......... 214 

The Postman . . . . . . . . . . 215 

A Hindu Temple 218 

The Musicians 220 

Schoolboys saluting 222 

Under a Priest 223 

Caves of Elephanta . . . 226 

Marriage of Siva 227 

A Katwadi 228 

Wandering Munis . . 231 

A Bramhan and Pilgrims 239 

The Doctor's Patient 244 

All for Three Cocoanuts 246 

The Beautiful Tank . . 249 

The Water-Carriers ■ . . . 250 

He is sacrificing to his Tools 253 

The Cobra and Mongoose 254 

"She recognizes me" 255 

" He seemed to enjoy the Show " 259 

A Fatal Leap 262 

Surprised by Uninvited Guests 263 

An Old-time Mail-Train 264 

That Wonderful City . . 268 

" Throw a Stone in there " 273 

A Sudden Appearance . . 276 

The Convert's Work 279 

Tiger-Hunting . . .281 

The Scent of the Kitchen 282 

Coolies in Camel's Hair ~ . . . 285 

Native Street . 287 

Beating Rice 288 

The King's Courtesy 291 

The Host's Mother . . • . . 296 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. xi 

PAGE 

In the Harem . . . . . . . , 299 

The Pretty Waiter . . . .... . . 304 

Kashee and the Boy . ' 306 

The Great Sultana . . . . . . . . . 308 

Rhinoceros Fight . . . . , . . , . 315 

The Dak Garri 318 

The Slaughter-House 319 

A Native Pottery . . . 322 

Narbada River 323 

The Marble Gorge . . . . . . . . . 327 

Like the Cedars of Lebanon 330 

The Mountain Village 332 

The Old Man and his Wives 334 

A Hindu driving Bullocks ....... 335 

The Dye-House . . . 343 

Thugs 345 

The Old Fort . . . 349 

"There is no Need to bind me, Captain" . . . -353 
Scene of the Massacre of Two Thousand Hindus by the 

British ..354 

The Scene of Nana Sahib's Massacre of the British . 356 

Preaching the Insurrection 358 

Benares . . . . . . . . . . . 361 

Temples by the River 366 

Burning the Dead . . . . . . ". . : 368 

The Beautiful Marble Ghats 369 

The Observatory . . . , . . . . -370 

A Funeral Procession . ■i^'jt^ 

The Old Tope at Sarnath ....... 378 

The Famous Delhi Gate 382 

Palace Court and Taj Mahal in the Distance . . . 385 

The Balcony . . . . . . . . • , . 387 

The Beautiful Gate 388 

The Taj from the Garden . . * . . . . . 389 



xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 

PAGE 

A Rajah of the Good Old Days ...... 393 

Advertising Rocks 394 

The Tomb of Selim Christi ....... 395 

The Railway Bridge over the Jumna at Delhi . . 398 

Delhi of Three Thousand Years ago , . . . . 400 

The Cashmere Gate of Delhi ...... 405 

Massuri in the Mountains ....... 416 

The Dye*6 . . . . 421 

Dhondaram in Armor ........ 423 

The Corn-Chandler ........ 427 

Bathing an Idol .......... 428 

The Merchant . . . . . . . . . 432 

The Day's March through the Mountains . . . . 433 

The Cloud Mountain by the Moon 435 

Up among the Snows . . . . . . . . 437 

The Golden Temple 438 

A Curious People 440 

The Wood-Cutter . . . . . . . . 441 

The Shepherdess 442 

The Black Gorges . . . . ... . . 443 

The Camp on the Heights 447 

He heard a Sharp Report . 451 

Rajpoot Guard 455 

The Mountain Coolies 457 

Scott's First Tiger . . 459 

"Paul! Paul!" 469 

GUNGA . . . . . 475 

Black Marble Chamber . 479 

The Last of India ......... 483 




Our boys in India. 



CHAPTER I. 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 




ANY who were boys in Massachusetts only a 

few years ago will well remember a startling 

-;C^''"'_< t notice that was printed in the newspapers, and 



was posted in conspicuous positions throughout 
the State, declaring in great letters, — 

A CHILD MISSING ! — TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLARS EEWAED. 

Paul Clayton, the youngest son of Benjamin Clayton, president of the 
Merchants' and Shippers' Bank of Boston, has been missing from home since 
Aug. lo. 

It is supposed that the boy was stolen, between the hours of eight and nine 
on the night of the loth of August, from the summer residence of Mr. Clayton, at 
Beverly Farms. He was six years old, had long, brown curling hair, a full face, 
hght complexion, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. He was a particularly happy- 
tempered and affectionate child, large for his age, and unusually mature and 
intelligent. 

Any one giving information that shall result in his recovery will receive 
the sum of twenty thousand dollars. 

(Signed) PHINEAS SHARP, 

Chief of the Boston Detective Bureau^ Boston, Mass, 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



There may be some who even followed one clew or another, 
partly out of sympathy for little Paul Clayton, and partly at- 
tracted by the large reward. But the first five days went by 
without the desired information. 

The farmers had almost finished their haying, and they were 
glad of it; for upon that 15th there was a terrible thunder- 
storm, that tore up and threw down every thing in the fields 



^ 




K 




that would yield to it. At six o'clock the sun came out again ; 
but in an hour it set in dense clouds, and a lingering storm set 
in, that lasted several days. 

Richard Raymond had returned from India only two days 
before. He went directly to his sister's house in Beverly. She 
was his only living relative ; and that was the old homestead that 
he had left, as a boy, now nearly twenty years before. Anxious 
to see the old landmarks again, and supposing that the storm 
had broken up, he took advantage of the cool air and the 
momentary sunshine to go out for a stroll. 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 3 

In fifteen minutes he was buried in the pine forests, that 
every one who has ever been there will remember, extending 
between Beverly and Beverly Farms, The dry, sandy soil had 
rapidly absorbed the water that had poured down upon it ; and 
Richard Raymond wore a pair of boots so thick, that he did not 
even notice the drops yet clinging to the ferns and blueberry- 
bushes. He was thirty-five years old ; but he felt like the boy 
of fifteen again, as he once more pushed his way through the 
low branches, stopping now and then to pick a leaf of winter- 
green, hard and tasteless, though it was in the middle of August. 

His heart was full of sunshine. He did not even notice that 
the real sunlight was again enveloped in dense clouds, and 
rapidly fading out of the east, till drops began to patter on the 
leaves, and the wind to sigh in a moist and rainy way through 
the branches of occasional oaks that grew among the pines; 
but it sounded so natural, — so much like what he had often 
heard when a boy, — that he only laughed, and felt so much the 
more at home. 

Still he kept on his walk, till suddenly he realized that it was 
becoming very dark ; and he stopped for a moment to wonder 
where he was, and what direction he should take to go back 
again. Every thing was changed, to the very forests. He 
did not remember the old paths so well as he thought, even 
those that were the same as they had been twenty years before. 
In fact, he very soon came to the conclusion that he was lost. 
And, as if the clouds were laughing at him, they began to pour 
down the rain almost as fast as they had in the afternoon. Then 
the lightning flashed : but this was fortunate, for in the light he 
discovered that he was very near a road ; and, reaching it as 
soon as possible, he drew himself close to the trunk of a tree, 
to wait there till some team should pass or the rain should 
cease. 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Neither of these things happened at once ; but, before he 
had been there very long, he heard some one muttering. It 
was a woman's voice : she was talking to herself. In a moment 
more a flash of lightning disclosed the figure of a woman, with 
torn clothes and a very pale face, creeping along the road, drip- 
ping with water, wring- 
ing her hands, and wail- 
ing in words that he 
could not understand. 

Richard Raymond 
spoke to her. She gave 
a faint cry of fear at 
first ; but then she 
caught his hand, and 
burst into tears. He 
could just see her as 
she stood close beside 
him. 

" O sir ! save me, 
save me ! " she cried. 
" Find my husband for 
me, and I will give you 
— I will give you — any 
thing, any thing ! " 

The woman was evi- 
dently insane ; and, as she clasped Richard's hand, something that 
she was holding fell to the ground, but she did not notice it. 

" Is your husband lost, my good woman ? " asked Richard 
gently. " What was his name ? " 

The poor woman dropped his hand, and, covering her face, 
began to cry again, sobbing, " Oh, his name was Roderick, 




A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 5 

Roderick Dennett ! and we were married only a month ago ; 
and now he has left me forever. He has been gone five days. 
Oh, he has gone forever ! Yes, gone forever, I know." 

Richard Raymond started when the woman pronounced that 
name ; and in the darkness and the pouring rain, and a strange 
conflict of thoughts that had been produced by the sound of 
the word that was very familiar to him, he did not notice that 
the woman had suddenly left him. But she was gone. He 
could not tell in which direction. He called, but she did not 
answer. He remerribered that she had dropped something, and 
stooped and picked it up. It was 
evidently a little watch and chain. 
He walked rapidly down the road, 
but could not find her. 

A few minutes later Mr. Ray- 
mond had discovered lights in 
windows close at hand, and soon 
found himself sheltered in a little 
station a few miles from Beverly, 
on a branch road. He was still richakd kaymond 

repeating that name " Roderick Dennett ; " for he and Roderick 
Dennett ran away to sea together twenty years before, and 
together wandered as far as India. There Richard had 
dropped the sowing of wild oats, and by diligent application 
had become a wealthy man ; but Roderick had lived by deceiv- 
ing every one with whom he had any thing to do. At the end 
of ten years he left India, and Richard knew no more of him, 
till now he suddenly heard the name again ; and, as ever, it was 
connected with crime. 

Richard looked at the little watch that he still held in his 
hand. It was a silver hunting-case. He opened it. It had 




6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

run down. On the inside of the cover the name "Paul" was 
engraved in the silver. He shut it up again, and went on think- 
ing, while he waited for a train. 

As he sat there, his eyes wandered over the room, and 
finally rested on a notice calculated to attract attention. It was 
under the large head-line, — 

"A CHILD MISSING!" 

and three times he read the notice through, then suddenly 
opened the little watch again, and read the name engraved on 
the cover, " Paul." 

He began putting the facts together that had so curiously 
come under his notice all in a single hour. 

" He left her five days ago," he said to himself. " Five days 
ago was Aug. lo. I wonder if there can be any connection be- 
tween the Paul Clayton on the notice there, and the Paul whose 
name is in this watch, and Roderick Dennett, whose wife was 
carrying it an hour ago ! " 

A train whistled, and drew up at the station. Richard seated 
himself in it, and safely reached his home. The next day he 
went to Boston, and soon learned that the name of Roderick 
Dennett was upon many lips as connected with a crime more 
bold than he had ever committed in India, and that the man 
had disappeared. Officers were eagerly searching for him, but 
with no clew ; and no one connected him with the abduction of 
the missing child, Richard said nothing of his suspicions : but, 
at the earliest possible opportunity, he went to New York ; and, 
after a week of work that would have surprised even the Boston 
Detective Bureau, he came to the conclusion that a Benjamin 
Shipman and daughter, who sailed from there upon a Mediter- 
ranean steamer, of the Anchor Line, at noon on the nth of 



A FLASH OF LIGHTNING. 7 

August, were none other than Roderick Dennett and the miss- 
ing Paul Clayton. 

He had no real authority for this, and the police-officers 
would have laughed at hini had he told them upon what frail 
ground he based his belief. Yet he felt so sure of it, that, had 
he had the power, he would have had this Benjamin Shipman 
arrested, and brought back to America : but the steamer had 
been gone for thirteen days before he became positive, and by 
that time she would have passed the Straits of Gibraltar ; and 
he fancied that Roderick Dennett would have taken passage 
upon the first connecting steamer for India, 

Richard Raymond had now become thoroughly interested in 
the matter ; and, though he saw the folly of laying his suspicions 
before the officers, he was resolved to see the father of the miss- 
ing child, and, placing the facts before him, offer his services. 

While he is on his way back to Beverly, intent upon going 
over at once to the Farms, let us, too, turn to the home of the 
little Paul Clayton as it was upon the evening of the loth of 
the month. 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 




CHAPTER II. 

THE -WISHBONE NIGHT. 

ENJAMIN CLAYTON'S cottage at Beverly Farms 
was one of the prettiest In that beautiful forest skirt- 
ing the coast. It was built in the old Gothic style, 
with long windows ; and when the lights shone 
through them at night, they seemed like some of the old castle 
windows of Europe. The sea dashed against the rocks upon 
one side of the road, and the pine forest surrounded the house 
on the other. Beverly Farms is so near to Boston, that Mr. 
Clayton could go to the bank in the city every day almost as 
conveniently as though he remained at his city home ; so that 
all summer and every summer his four happy children, Scott, 
Bess, Paul, and Kittie, romped in the forest, or played upon the 
seashore. 

Kittie was the baby-girl. Paul was the youngest boy. On 
the tenth day of August he was six years old. Bess was nine, 
and Scott was fourteen. They were all the world to each other, 
and their happy home was almost a heaven to them. 

The Gothic cottage was filled with children on this loth of 
August. Paul was enjoying a birthday party with his friends. 
It was the lucky " six," and hence was made a wishbone party; 
and every little couple was given a wishbone to secure for them- 
selves the best thing that heart could think of on this auspi- 
cious occasion. There was something superstitiously sacred in 
the wishing ; and there was something so sacred to the brothers 



lO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and sisters in each other, that they stole away by themselves, 
after the wishbones had been distributed, to break them where 
no one else could see or hear. 

"What do you wish for, little Paul?" cried Bess with a 
merry laugh. 

Paul was thoughtful. His brow contracted in a studious 
way ; his blue eyes wandered up and down the brittle bone. 

" What do you wish for, Bess ? " he asked doubtfully. 

" I ? " said Bess. " Oh ! I wish you many happy returns of 
the day, of course ; but you must wish for something for your- 
self, you know." 

" Well," said Paul at last, " I wish that I might visit that 
wonderful land of India, that aunt Jane was telling us about 
this afternoon, I wish I might go all over India." 

" I withe tho too," lisped litde Kittie. 

"And I," said Scott, looking over Bess's shoulder, "I wish 
for an opportunity to be a hero." 

"What a funny wish!" cried Bess; "but pull, brothers, 
pull ! Now : one, two, three ! " and the wishbones snapped. 

Paul ran away to find his father, and tell him of the result. 

In the library sat Mr. Clayton and another gentleman. It 
required but a glance at the two to tell at once that both were 
in desperate earnestness over something. 

For two days Benjamin Clayton had worn a very serious face 
in his private office at the bank, for something had been going 
wrong. No one had noticed this at home ; for, while Mr. Clay- 
ton thought of nothing but his business in the city, he never 
brought any of it home with him, in his face at least, where 
the children could see it. He was the president of the largest 
bank in Boston ; and two days before, he had discovered some- 
thing in the cashier's accounts that the great bank examiner 




THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 



12 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

had overlooked ; and the deeper he studied those accounts, the 
greater the fraud appeared, till, to his horror, he found that the 
cashier was a defaulter and a robber to the amount of nearly a 
half-million dollars. It seemed incredible that every one had 
been so blinded ; yet there were the figures, when Mr. Clayton 
gave them his attention, and the securities that had been left 
with the bank were gone. 

Mr. Clayton had said nothing to his cashier ; but with the 
quick suspicion of a guilty mind, that Shakspeare talks about, 
the cashier had discovered that he knew all about it, and to- 
night, in spite of the party, he had come out to the Farms, and 
was in earnest conversation with the president. 

Mr. Clayton listened without a word, while the cashier laid 
the whole matter before him, and ended in this way : — 

" Now, Mr. Clayton, the deed is done, and you have found 
it out. You were too smart for me by about a week. What I 
propose to do is this : I shall be at the bank late at night, on 
the last of the month, settling the accounts. I shall be attacked 
by men that I shall hire. They will break into the safe, and 
the next day there will have been a terrible robbery. As you 
have found me out, I shall have to divide with you. I shall take 
charge of disposing of the securities, and will give you, in good 
money, one quarter of a million dollars." 

Mr. Clayton was a man who had learned by long trial to 
control himself, and act carefully ; but this was something that 
was beyond his utmost will. He sprang to his feet. His face 
was flushed with anger. 

" Roderick Dennett ! " he exclaimed, " had you come to 
me with any show of penitence, I could have forgiven you, and 
done all in my power to make others forgive you too. But not 
for all the money in the world would I help you to cover up a 
crime." 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 



*• Then you will expose me ? " said Roderick sullenly. 

*' Most assuredly ! " replied Mr. Clayton, sitting down again. 

" You will be exposing yourself," said Roderick. " No one 
will believe that a half-million dollars could have been taken 
from the bank by the cashier without the knowledge of the 










THE INTERVIEW. 



president ; and it would be much better for you and the bank, 
as well as for me, if it went as a robbery." 

" I do not care if every one suspects me ! I do not care 
if I am imprisoned for life ! " exclaimed Mr. Clayton. " I would 
not aid you to steal a pin for all the money in Boston, or any 
other consideration. You are a miserable scoundrel ! a black- 
leg ! a villanous dog ! I will denounce you ! " 

" Stop ! " cried Roderick Dennett angrily. " Be careful ! I'll 
make you suffer for what you are saying ! " 



14 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Just as Mr. Clayton was about to reply, Paul came running 
into the room with the broken wishbone in his hand. 

" Papa, papa ! " he cried, " come down and wish with us. 
Oh, we are having such fun ! I've just wished that I might go 
to India, and I've got my wish. I know I'm going ; for it's the 
lucky night, you know." 

Here little Paul hesitated ; and with the broken bone in one 
hand, and his curly little head hanging to one side, he looked 
from his father to the stranger, and back again, for he saw 
that something was the matter. 

" Run away now, Paul," said his father : " you must not dis- 
turb me. I will come down by and by." He said it very kindly : 
but, after all, it was so different from the way in which he had 
always spoken, that Paul felt a great lump gather in his throat ; 
and, instead of going back to the merry party of children, he 
crept out on the veranda all alone, and began to cry. 

Some terrible words passed between the two men as soon 
as Paul had gone out, but no one ever knew what they were. 
The stranger went away very soon, but Mr. Clayton did not 
come out of the library. No one saw him till over an hour 
later, when his wife and Scott and Bess, in great anxiety, came 
hurrying into the room. For a moment they forgot their 
errand ; for there sat Mr. Clayton, just where Paul had left him, 
ghastly pale and terribly agitated. He did not notice them till 
his wife bent over him, and anxiously asked, — 

"What is it, Benjamin? What is it? Has any thing hap- 
pened to Paul ? " 

" To Paul ? " Mr. Clayton started to his feet ; for litde Paul 
was his petted boy, and at that moment, at least, seemed the 
dearest thing on earth to him. 

" We cannot find him. We have hunted everywhere," cried 
Bess, who could no longer restrain herself. 



THE WISHBONE NIGHT. 



15 



With his eyes fixed in a terrible stare, Mr. Clayton turned 
toward his wife. In her face he read the truth. With one 
groan he staggered backward, and fell upon the floor. It was 
a severe stroke of paralysis, and the night was sad enough in 
that happy family. 

The terrible danger in which the father stood distracted the 
attention partly from little Paul ; and at best they could not have 
known which way to turn, for no one knew of Roderick Dennett 
and the conversation that had passed in the library. No one 
knew of the terrible threats he had made, and of how little Paul 
had come into the library just when he was trying to determine 
what he could do to make Mr. Clayton suffer most. 

Mr. Clayton could have turned the search in the right direc- 
tion, and doubtless have arrested the fugitive and villain before 
he could have escaped, which Roderick Dennett was very fear- 
ful would come to pass. But the father's lips were sealed with 
paralysis ; and for weeks after the shock he did not speak a 
word, or hardly know what was transpiring about him. 

The sudden disappearance of the cashier, and the illness of 
the president, annoyed the officers of the bank : and, though the 
defalcation was not at once discovered, matters looked strangely 
suspicious ; and in two days the whole was known, and officers 
were sent to search for the fugitive. But it was two days too 
late. Roderick Dennett escaped without suspicion ; and, had it 
not been for one contingency, he might have lived for years, 
and perhaps died, without having any search properly directed. 
That contingency was the very last that he had looked for, — 
the presence of Richard Raymond on the scene. 



1 6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



CHAPTER III. 

BEINQ HEROES. 




]T was on the thirtieth day of August that Richard Ray- 
mond introduced himself in the disconsolate home. 
He was ushered into the library ; and as Mrs. Clayton 
was engaged in assisting the doctor with her husband, 
it was some time before she appeared. Scott sat by the centre- 
table, with an open book before him ; but his eyes were swollen 
with crying, and his cheeks were wet with tears. He was not 
reading. The stranger came in so suddenly, that Scott had no 
opportunity to leave the room ; but he was ashamed to be 
found crying, and hid his face. 

Richard Raymond, with the true sympathy of an honest 
heart, realized the position : and, to try and make friends with 
the poor boy, he threw himself carelessly into an easy-chair 
beside him ; and, taking a book from the shelves at hand, he 
pretended for a time to be engaged in reading, Scott turned 
his head away, and rested his cheek in his hand, struggling to 
stifle the sobs that kept forcing themselves from his sad heart. 
This gave Mr. Raymond an opportunity to study him carefully 
for a moment, before he attempted to draw him into conversa- 
tion ; and, as he was a kind-hearted and shrewd man, he was at 
last able to succeed. 

" I used to roam about here when I was a boy like you," 
said Richard; "but there were no houses here then. And 
beyond the woods we used sometimes even to see wolves and 



BEING HEROES. 



17 



foxes. Once, when I was ten years old, I went in the winter to 
a field about half a mile from here with a boy who was older 
than I. We were pretending that we were pioneers, and had 
gathered some 
sticks to build a 
fire, and had 
brought some ap- 
ples and potatoes 
from home to 
bake. While we 
were at work, I 
looked up, and 
saw a large ani- 
mal just springing 
upon me. I could 
not tell whether it 
was a fox, or a 
wolf, or only a 
savage dog ; but, 
as I turned to run, 
he leaped, and 
threw me down. 
I fell upon my 
back, and he stood 
over me, with his 
great red tongue 
hanging out of 
his mouth, as I held him for life by the long hair on his throat. 
The boy who was with me had turned to run: but, when he saw 
me in trouble, he stopped ; and, coming back with the axe that 
we brought to cut the wood for the fire, he struck the creature 




RICHARD RAYMOND AND SCOTT CLAYTON. 



1 8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

a terrible blow behind the shoulders that almost cut him in 
two." 

" He was a very brave boy," said Scott. " Did he live to 
grow up a hero ? " 

" It takes more than bravery to make a hero," replied Mr. 
Raymond. 

" I wish I were a hero," said Scott with a deep sigh, " I 
have great need to be one now." And he turned his head away 
again ; and Richard, seeing that he was once more struggling 
with the tears, endeavored to change the subject by saying, — 

" Yes, the boy did live ; and he has grown up to be a sort of 
a hero in one way, but I fancy it is not the kind of a hero that 
you would like to be." 

"Tell me about him, sir," said Scott. "What is his name?" 

" It is Roderick Dennett," said Richard. 

" Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott, looking up. " Why, 
that is the name of the cashier of papa's bank." 

"It is the very same man," replied Richard. 

" But they say that he has run away with some of the bank 
money," said Scott in surprise. 

"That is beinor one kind of a hero, is it not?" asked 
Richard. 

" A very bad hero," said Scott. 

"That is precisely what I meant, that it takes more than 
bravery to be a true hero. It took bravery to rob the bank, 
but he would have been much stronger had he resisted the 
temptation." 

"Are there any wolves about here now, or foxes?" asked 
Scott wath a shudder. 

" Not many, I think," replied Mr. Raymond. " But why do 
you ask ? " 




IT TAKES MORE THAN BRAVERY TO MAKE A HERO. 



20 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" I was vv^ondering- if it could have been one of them that 
carried off brother Paul," said Scott, bursting into tears. 

"That is what I have come to see you and your mother 
about," Mr. Raymond replied at last ; " for I think that I know 
something about your brother Paul." Scott started to his feet ; 
but Mr. Raymond continued, " I believe it is the man who 
saved my life that has taken Paul away." 

" Mr. Roderick Dennett ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Yes, Mr. Roderick Dennett. Do you know if he was 
about here on the night of the party ? " asked Richard. 

" Yes, sir, he was," replied Scott ; " for Bess and I saw him 
go through the hall, and go out, just a little while before we 
missed our brother. He hurried past us. Bess said, ' Good- 
evening, Mr. Dennett ; ' but he never noticed us. We thought 
it very strange, for he was always so kind when he came up to 
see papa. But I had forgotten all about it since then." 

" Do you know whose watch this is ? " asked Mr. Raymond, 
showing Scott the little silver watch that the poor woman had 
dropped on the ground. 

Scott seized it eagerly, exclaiming, with tears in his eyes, — - 

" O sir, it is Paul's ! It was his birthday present from 
papa. He wore it in the evening." 

Richard Raymond was satisfied that he was right, though all 
that he had built upon would have been thought a very frail 
foundation to a legal detective. Just then Mrs. Clayton came 
in with the good news that her husband was much better, and 
seemed thoroughly conscious again, though still unable to speak. 
Mr. Raymond told her briefly his suspicions, and the ground for 
them. His name was not entirely unknown to her ; and she put 
such confidence in what he said, that it was decided that he 
should see Mr. Clayton, even in his weak condition. 



BEING HEROES. 2 1 

Scott went with them to the sick-room, where, very simply 
and calmly, Richard Raymond reported all that he knew. 

"You must not think me an adventurer," said he, "urged 
on by any thought of the reward that is offered. I have an 
independent fortune ; and until I know that I am right, at least, 
I wish to pay my own expenses. You can move your left hand, 
I see ; and if, when you assent to what I say, you will lift it from 
the pillow, it will be all that is necessary. I can say in a few 
words all that I know, and I trust you will not let it excite you. 
I have thought that your cashier, Roderick Dennett, might 
know something about Paul." 

An eager flush for an instant tinged the pale cheeks, and 
the hand was instantly lifted. It was evident to all that there 
was no doubt in Mr. Clayton's mind that it was Roderick 
Dennett. Mr. Raymond continued, — 

" I knew the man in America when he was a boy. I knew 
him for ten years in India. I think that he left New York with 
the child, on the Anchor Line, for India, on the nth of August. 
If you will permit me, I will start at once for India; and I am 
sure, that, sooner or later, I shall know all about your son." 

Again the trembling hand was lifted from the pillow. 

"Two things are absolutely necessary : my suspicions must 
be kept a secret with you here, or he might easily hear and 
baffle every endeavor ; and I must have some one with me 
who could instantly recognize the little boy through any dis- 
guise that might be put upon him, — some one who has known 
him very well at home." 

A shadow passed over the sick man's face. There was a 
momentary silence in the room. Richard Raymond did not 
look at Scott ; but he knew the thoughts he was thinking, and 
he felt sure that the boy who wanted to be a hero would come 
to his aid. 



22 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



A moment later Scott knelt by his father's side, and earnest- 
ly whispered, — 

" Father, let me go with him, and bring back brother Paul." 

It was a terri- 
ble struggle. Mrs. 
Clayton, with one 
arm about her son, 
knelt weeping by 
the bed. For a 
moment it seemed 
too much, and 
Richard thought 
that Mr. Clayton 
was again wander- 
ing in his mind ; 
but the left hand 
trembled on the 
pillow, and then 
slowly rose. Scott 
seized it, but 
gently and rever- 
ently, and pressed 
it to his lips. 

Bess was left 
to love little Kit- 
tie, and be the 
ministering angel 
in the sick-room. In the long, weary days that followed, 
when the house seemed so still and deserted that had been so 
bright before, her one great duty was a thing that seemed im- 
possible to perform, — to keep a happy face to cheer her father; 




BESS AND HER PET 



BEING HEROES. 23 

and sometimes thoughts would come that were too much even 
for the bravest Httle heart ; and with her pet canary on her 
shoulder chirping, and trying to kiss her, and seeming to do his 
very best to express his sympathy, she would go to the window 
to hide from her father the tears that would well up from the 
full fountain. And there she would think over again all the 
little incidents of that last half-hour when they were all to- 
gether, when they stole away from the rest of the children to 
break their wishbones on that sacred birthday night. 

" Perhaps little Paul is having his wish," she would sob ; 
" and surely Scott will have his. Oh, if I were only a man, I 
would be a hero too, and help find little Paul ! " 

Brave little Bess ! She never thought that she was the 
greatest hero of them all, and performing the very hardest duty 
and the noblest work. But so it is ; and those who are real 
heroes are oftener those who do not know it than those who 
do. 



24 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER IV. 

OUT ON THE OCEAN. 

HERE have been so many stories told of the Atlantic, 
that Scott had a good idea of what was before him for 
the first nine days of the voyage ; and he was so sad, 
that he found it hard to yield to the partial novelty, 
and to Mr. Raymond's untiring efforts to make him forget him- 
self. But he was o-oinsf in search of Paul. That alone made 
him happy, and gradually overcame the terrible homesickness 
that seemed to lie like a heavy weight upon him all the time. 
The days dragged on with almost unendurable slowness at first : 
it seemed a year since he had left the cottage home among the 
pines, though they had only been six days upon the sea, when 
an event occurred that opened Scott's eyes to his real position, 
and showed him that, after all, he had much to be thankful for, 
and that, while there were hosts of people in the world who 
were worse off than he, it was not only foolishness, but coward- 
ice, to give himself up to mourning for the past. 

Scott was sitting under the awning, aft ; for it was perfectly 
calm and excessively hot, even on the ocean. Richard laughed, 
however, and told him that he would think it a delightfully cool 
afternoon by the time he had experienced a few days upon the 
Red Sea. There were many emigrants on the steamer, who 
had either failed to make the fortunes they had hoped for in 
America, or had earned enough to visit the old country again, 
and were going home. Suddenly Scott realized that a very 



26 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

solemn company was gathering upon the deck, far forward. 
He asked Mr. Raymond what it was. Richard had not spoken 
of a death that had occurred on board, dreading to make the 
boy more melancholy ; but now he was obliged to tell him that 
it was a funeral. Scott shuddered ; and in spite of Richard's 
suggestion that it was among the emigrants, and that they had 
better remain where they were, he slowly rose, and walked 
forward, with his eyes fixed on the gathering throng, as though 
it had some subtle charm that was enticing him. 

With a sad face, Richard followed him. The body of a 
man, made heavy with lead weights, so that it would sink, 
and bound up in coarse canvas, lay stretched upon the deck. 
Beside it, in great distress, knelt a woman, evidently the 
widow. Clinging to her neck, and crying bitterly, was a little 
boy ; while on the other side knelt the minister, solemnly 
repeating the last prayer. Then four seamen came forward, 
with bare heads ; and, putting the body upon a sort of litter 
of plain pine, they carried it to the edge of the steamer, and 
let it fall into the sea. As the splash sounded, the poor 
woman shrieked, and fell faintino; on the decTc. 

Mr. Raymond had been anxiously watching Scott's face. 
Now he saw a strange light break over it, and tears glisten 
in his eyes, as he left the secluded spot where he had been 
standing, and, hurrying forward, knelt beside the forsaken 
little boy, and put his arm about his neck. Mr. Raymond 
turned away, and went aft alone. It was two hours later 
when Scott came into the saloon, but a single glance assured 
his friend that at last the boy had forgotten himself. From 
that moment he was another person. 

" I am very fortunate to have my father still," said he : 
" and it is much better that little Paul should be stolen than 
dead ; for we may find him, and bring him back." 



OUT ON THE OCEAN. 



27 



" I am sure we shall," replied Mr. Raymond earnestly. 

The remaining days went by rapidly enough, for Scott 
was busily engaged in comforting the little orphan among the 
steerage passengers. 

The steamer entered the Irish Sea, and stopped only an 
hour at Queenstown ; for which the two travellers were very 
thankful, as the sight of land made them all the more anxious to 
be on the way across the Continent without a moment's delay. 

"We shall be in time for the royal mail," said Mr. Ray- 
mond, carefully studying his watch and chart, and the time- 
table of the North- Western Railroad. " We shall reach Liver- 
pool this afternoon ; and, if all only goes well, we shall take the 
evening train for London. We shall get there about daylight ; 
and, as soon as the Peninsular and Oriental S. S. office is 
opened, we will secure tickets to Brindisi if possible." 

"Where shall we go then?" asked Scott. 

"If we are successful, we shall take the train that leaves 
London every Friday night at nine o'clock." 

"Why do you say if?" Scott asked again. 

" Because I am very much afraid that we may find the 
seats all taken. I shall telegraph from Liverpool, but this is 
a new thing. It is a weekly mail for India. On Friday night, 
at a quarter before nine, an engine and mail-van, with only 
passengers enough to fill one American sleeping-car, leave 
the Charing-Cross station. At Paris the sleeping-car is attached 
to the mail-van, and no one without a seat is allowed to o-o. 
It is the fastest express, and has nothing to do but get to 
the south of Italy as quickly as possible." 

They were late in entering the River Mersey, for the tide 
was wrong for them to cross the bar ; and Richard and Scott 
stood anxiously leaning against the chain that was stretched 



28 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

across the prow to prevent the passengers from going too 
far forward, when the great port of Liverpool appeared in an 
enormous half-circle before them, with Birkenhead upon the 
other side. 

Oh, those interminable miles of wharves ! 

" Shall we never come to the end?" asked Scott, as he 
nervously watched, while the steamer slowly passed one after 
another of those world-famed, solid piers, from which mer- 
chandise is sent all over the wide world. 

" Patience, patience, my boy ! " replied Mr. Raymond, smil- 
ing. " You will have many lessons in patience before you 
have travelled long. We shall have to wait quietly hundreds 
of times, when it will seem as though every minute was worth 
a fortune." 

At last, however, the company's tender came alongside, 
and the eager crowd hurried on board. They gave the good 
steamer a farewell cheer ; and even Scott joined in it, though 
a little while before, he had felt any thing but grateful over 
the slow way in which she was creeping up the river. 

Lamps were burning on the stage (or pier, as Scott would 
have called it), when at last they stood upon the solid earth 
again. The two had very little baggage, — only large valises, 
that they could carry in their hands in case of necessity, — 
and Scott supposed that they should start off at once. 

"Which is the way out?" he asked eagerly, without noti- 
cing any of the strange sights about him. 

Mr. Raymond only smiled, and again replied, " Patience, 
my boy, patience ! " 

"What! wait again ? And are you in no hurry yourself ?" 
he asked almost angrily, seeing the smile on Richard's face, 

" I am in a very great hurry," replied Mr. Raymond; "but 



30 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



what good does it do ? We have got to stand here till all 
those trunks are taken from the tender, and put into the 
custom-room ; then we must go through there with the rest 
of the passengers, and have our valises examined. Then we 
shall be free, and can hurry as much as we like." 

Mr. Raymond put his valise against the wall, and, lean- 
ing back, began to study the people about them, and call the 
attention of his little friend to interesting objects. It was not 
entirely in vain : but Scott had only an indistinct idea, after- 
ward, of the lights burning here and there upon the stage ; 
of burly British policemen, with beards under their chins, 
and red faces, and huge hats that looked like helmets, and 
reminded him so strongly of the stories he had read, by 
Dickens ; of little bootblacks, with badg-es and numbers, that 
would cluster about them when the police-officers were out 
of sight, and run away when the officer approached again ; 
and of how the officer would thunder at the poor little fellows, 
and push them about. Scott wondered what they were doing 
that was wrong, so long as they were allowed to be there at 
all. Here and there, too, were passengers from the steamer, 
hurrying about with anxious faces and angry words, as though 
they thought they could move the whole British Empire by 
demanding that it should hurry up for their especial benefit. 

" They will get over that when they have tried it long 
enough," said Richard with a smile ; and even Scott began to 
feel like an old traveller, and to gather patience from the 
anxiety of the rest. He became very nervous again, however, 
when the door opened, and again was almost angry with Mr. 
Raymond, at the quiet way in which he proceeded. It seemed 
as though every one crowded in front of him ; yet Scott 
noticed with astonishment that those who were the most offi- 



OUT ON THE OCEAN. 



31 



cious and noisy were still wrangling over their baggage with 
the officers, or trying to hurry others on, when Richard quietly 




SCENE IN LIVEKPOOL. 



secured the attention of a polite official, and, without even 
opening but one of the valises, had them stamped with the 
customs label, and they were the very first of all the passengers 
to secure a carriage. 



32 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



They saw very little of Liverpool, as they whirled through 
the streets to the great North-Western depot ; but they were 
in time for the train, and that was the great object. 

It was a curious sensation to enter a large hotel, on the 
way to a depot, and to find the uniformed officials every- 
where ; and, in the strange surroundings and bustle, it seemed 
to Scott that there must be confusion, and that they must 
surely lose their way. But he followed silently behind Mr. 
Raymond, and found every step so plainly marked before them, 
that out of the very multiplicity complete order was resolved. 
Very soon the two were quietly seated in a curious compart- 
ment of a long car, with the seats extending from one side to 
the other, facing each other, entirely shut off from the rest of 
the car, which was all cut up into similar compartments. The 
doors were at the sides ; and, before the car started, a guard, 
or conductor, looked at their tickets, to be sure that there was 
no mistake ; then he locked the doors on the outside, and the 
train started. 

There was but one other passenger in the compartment 
with them ; and, though the strange sights in the half-clouded 
moonlight were interesting for a time, Scott was very soon 
ready to roll himself up and go to sleep. England was not 
so very unlike America, after all, he thought then ; for he was 
very tired, in the re-action from the anxiety he had felt all the 
afternoon. There was not so much noise about the road and 
at the stations as he was accustomed to at home, and he slept 
very soundly till he was roused by a particularly bad odor filling 
the compartment. He opened his eyes. Mr. Raymond was 
engaged in conversation with the other passenger ; but, seeing 
that Scott was awake, he smiled, and asked if he was all right. 

" What is this awful smell ? " asked Scott. 



. OUT ON THE OCEAN. 33 

" It is from a large extract-factory," replied Mr. Raymond. 

"What!" exclaimed Scott, sitting up, "where they make 
perfumes ? " 

"Just that exactly," said Richard, laughing. 

" And is that the way to make perfumes, by burning up 
the horrible odors, and saving the good ones ? " asked Scott. 
But the stranger spoke to Mr. Raymond, and Scott received 
no reply. He lay and listened to the two till he fell asleep 
again. It was a strange language in which they were talking, 
and he gained but little information after all ; but several times 
he was sure that he heard the name of Roderick Dennett 
spoken. When he awoke again, the light burned very low, 
and was smoking, as though the oil was out. The sky was 
growing gray in the east. He looked about the compartment. 
Mr. Raymond was asleep on the opposite seat, and the stranger 
was gone. 

Scott watched the curious farms and houses that were now 
very frequent, till Richard looked up, and, taking out his 
watch, said, "We shall be in London in less than half an 
hour. Are you glad ? " 

"It is so much nearer India," replied Scott with a sigh, 
as he remembered that it was also so much farther away from 
home. And a moment later he asked, "Who was that man 
with whom you were talking ? " 

" He was a German, a civil engineer, who put through one 
of the India railways." 

' I thought I heard you speak of Mr. Dennett," said 
Scott. 

"Yes: Dennett worked on the railroad for a few months; 
and I obtained some information concerningf native associates 
of his, that will help us, I think." 



34 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"It is very strange that you should have met that man," 
said Scott, much surprised. 

" Not so very," repHed Richard, gathering up the things 
that had been scattered about the seats through the night. 
" The farther you go, the more you will discover that the 
world is only a little thing after all, and you will be forever 
finding people who have been in the same places, and know 
the same people. But here we are ! See ! we are entering 
London." 

" But it is not ten minutes yet. We must be early," said 
Scott. 

" I think not," said Richard, sitting down by the window. 
" London is very large, you know. It would take you almost 
all day to ride from one end to the other in a hack." 

" It must be a splendid place for criminals to hide," said 
Scott, as he looked down the interminable lines of dirty tile 
roofs, and, just as far as the eye could reach, saw the spires 
and domes and tall chimneys still rising, and wondered how 
it would be possible to keep the eye of the law on all the, 
intricate lanes and by-ways that seemed to be everywhere. 

" You are quite right there," replied Richard. " If there 
is a man outside of London whom the police are after, the 
thing that he often tries the hardest to do, and that they try 
the hardest to keep him from doing, is to get into the city. 
I was once in England in search of a famous criminal who 
had fled from India. We cornered him at last in a little town ; 
and, if he did not manage to slip out, we were sure of him. 
We watched every train, and especially the express for London. 
I was sure I should recognize him if I saw him ; and in all 
sorts of disguises, accompanied by a policeman or detective, 
I was at the station at almost every train. One day a young 



OUT ON THE OCEAN. 



35 



gentleman and a lady, beautifully dressed, came down, and 
took the express. As I was on the lookout for every one, I 
did not like to let the lady with a veil over her face go past 
me. I hurried to the guard-room, and borrowed a hat and 
coat of one of the officers of the train, while another went to 
the compartment where the gentleman and lady were sitting, 
and called the gentleman away to look to some baggage. 
Then I went up to the window, and suddenly spoke to the 
lady. She started ; but, though her reply was very simple, I 
was sure, in an instant, that I had the man for whom I had 
come from India. I hurried back, and reported to the detec- 
tives. The train was held for fifteen minutes, till they could 
learn who the two were. Very soon word was brought by an 
officer that they were a couple who had just been married, 
and were starting upon a wedding-trip. The detectives laughed 
at me well, I tell you ; and I had nothing left me but to give 
up. The train went on ; but a half-hour before it should have 
reached London we found out, for a certainty, that the man 
had not only left the country town that afternoon, but that 
he must have left upon that very express train for London. 
The officers telegraphed forward, and had the station carefully 
guarded. It was about nine o'clock at night ; and we all waited, 
sure of hearing of the arrest. But, when the train was about 
entering the suburbs of the city, the bell rang violently in the 
guard-van, and the train was stopped. Some one had pulled 
the cord, you know, that runs along just outside the windows 
there. The guard hurried down the line to see what was the 
matter, and at last came upon a compartment where an old 
woman sat all alone, with any amount of bandboxes and 
bundles about her. The old woman was deaf as a post, and 
the guard shouted a dozen times before he could make her 



36 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



understand that he wanted to know what was the matter. 
Then she looked up in surprise, and rephed, ' I want some 
dinner. What did you suppose ? ' There was no use in swear- 
ing at her, for she could not hear a thing. She only pointed 
up to that notice there, and said, ' Don't that say when meals 
hare required, notify the guard ? hand don't hit say to notify 
the guard pull the cord houtside the window? I 'ope you 
didn't stop the train hon my haccount.' There was a delay of 
fifteen minutes, so that it was three-quarters of an hour before 
the train reached the depot. Then there were the policemen 
all ready for it ; and of course they went at once to the com- 
partment where the young couple were. To their surprise, 
they found it empty. A bit of wet leather had been stretched 
over the lantern, so that no one could see when the door was 
opened ; and, while the train stood still for the old woman, 
the two had escaped, and had had three-quarters of an hour 
to put themselves beyond the reach of the police." 

" But the old woman ! " said Scott. 

"You are right, Scott," replied Richard. "And if the Lon- 
don police had only been as bright, and said so as quickly 
as you have, they might have accomplished something, at 
least, though it might have been hard to prove that she really 
had any thing to do with it intentionally. But, while they 
were vexing themselves over the fellow himself, the assistant, 
as the old woman doubtless was, left the train and the station 
without being suspected ; and, before their attention was turned 
that way, she, too, was buried up somewhere in the great 
city, 

" But that was not the end of it all, was it ? " asked 
Scott anxiously. 

" It was not really the end of it," replied Mr. Raymond, 



OUT ON THE OCEAN. 



37 



*' though the man escaped me, and I went back to India alone. 
But I expect to meet him again some day, and you may see 
him too. But here we are at last. Now we will go to a 
hotel, and have a bath and breakfast, and rest for two or three 
hours, before the offices are opened." 

There was no confusion or turmoil ; and Scott could hardly 
believe that they had reached the famous Euston station, when 
the door was quietly opened, and, following Richard, he went 
across a stone platform, and entered a curious sort of a gig. 
The driver sat behind it, and almost as high as the top of 
the carriage ; and, having seated themselves where there was 
just room for two, they shut two little doors in front of their 
feet, boxing themselves in above the knees. 

" I don't believe the driver more than half wanted us to 
ride," said Scott : " he never even spoke, till after you was 
close up to him." 

" They would not be allowed to shout, and push them- 
selves into one's face, as they do in America. But I fancy 
they have just as many passengers as if they were more noisy : 
for, if one wants to ride, he will ride ; and, if he don't, I should 
not think the bullying fellows would tempt him to," replied 
Mr. Raymond. " I love America even more, perhaps, because 
I have not been there for so long ; but there are some things 
that must yet be improved." 

They were now rattling through dim, noisy streets, that 
were crowded, even at that early hour. Scott found, that, after 
all, it was not quite like what he had seen his life long, and 
began to feel as though he were one of the characters of 
some of Dickens's stories. The idea was very thoroughly taken 
out of him, however, when, a few hours later, he and Mr. 
Raymond left the hotel to find the steamer-office, and one 



38 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



of the first objects they met was a ragged little newsboy, who 
hurried up to them, crying, — 

"All the latest news from New York! Only a penny!" 
" How does he know that we are Americans ? " asked 
Scott, chagrined, he could ha«rdly tell why, to be so easily 
discovered. 

"They all know it," replied Mr. Raymond, smiling, "Would 
you rather not ? " Scott hesitated ; and Richard continued, 

"You were ashamed of it, I 
fancy." 

" A little," said Scott, blush- 



" And so are hosts of Ameri- 
cans," added Mr. Raymond. " I 
have seen gentlemen and ladies 
try in every possible way to 
hide the fact. They will buy 
English clothes the moment 
they land, and talk like English- 
men, and try to act like them, 
and then be very angry when 
they see how they fail after all. 
It is very strange to me ; for America, of every land, is one 
to be proud of, I would rather be an American than any 
jthing else on earth ; and so would they, I think, if they really 
♦thought of it." 

"I am not going to be ashamed of it again ! " exclaimed 
I. 
Scott proudly ; " and you shall see. The first time that any 

'one thinks I am not an American, I will show him he is 

mistaken very quickly." 

They hailed a bus. There was a winding flight of iron 




THE RAGGED NEWSBOY. 



40 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

steps leading to the top ; and, wishing to see all they could 
of London, they mounted, and seated themselves on the roof. 
A young Englishman was sitting there alone. He looked up 
as Scott took a place beside him, and pleasantly remarked, 
" A fine morning this." 

" It might be more uncomfortable, sir," replied Scott ; 
though he could not help looking a little incredulously toward 
the sky, for he thought it one of the most disagreeable, damp, 
and gloomy mornings he had found for months. It looked 
as though it would certainly rain in an hour ; and evidently 
the Englishman thought so too, for he had an umbrella. 

Noticing Scott's uncertainty, he added, " You've not lived 
long in town ? " 

"In town! What town?" asked Scott, 

" Hereabout. You don't seem quite used to London 
weather," replied the Englishman. 

" No, sir: I am an American," said Scott; and he blushed 
a little as he felt Mr. Raymond's hand touch his shoulder 
approvingly; "and I do not know much about London weather, 
if this is a fine morning." 

The Englishman laughed. " You'll think it one of the best 
of the year, if you stop the year out." 

" Then, I should hate to see a really bad morning in Lon- 
don," observed Scott, rubbing his hand over his pants, that 
were already quite damp with the fog. 

"Ay, that you would!" replied the Englishman. " Some- 
tim.es they light the street-gas at noon, the fog is so thick ; 
and I've seen more than one time when, in broad daylight, 
the driving was stopped in the streets." 

" It must be interesting," said Scott, meaning precisely the 
opposite. But the Englishman thought him in earnest, and 



OUT ON THE OCEAN. 



41 



replied, " Right you are ! " with an enthusiasm that almost 
made him laugh, in spite of his endeavors to keep a sober 
face. 

They reached the up-town office of the P. and O. S. S. 
Company only to be disappointed. Every seat was taken ; 
and there was no way in which they could reach Brindisi, in 
Italy, in time for the steamer. 

" Let us walk over to No. 18 Cockspur Street," said Mr. 
Raymond. "It is only a little way, and there is a shipper 
there who has the agency for several Bombay steamers. It 
may be that one of them is leaving at once ; and, if so, 
going by water will only delay us three or four days more 
than waiting for the next mail overland, and we should then 
be able to stop at all the ports where the Mediterranean 
steamer from New York stopped, and make sure that we are 
not following a wrong track, and that the passengers went 
right on to India." 

" How should we go by water?" asked Scott, as they walked 
over to Na. 18 Cockspur Street. 

" We should leave either from Southampton or Liverpool, 
and go right across the Bay of Biscay, to Gibraltar ; and from 
there we should stop at Algiers, Malta, and Alexandria, or 
Port Said ; then through the canal to Suez, to Aden, and 
Bombay." 

" I should think that would be better," said Scott. 

" At any rate, we will make a virtue of a necessity, and 
profit by it," replied Richard, as they reached the office. 



42 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER V. 

OLD JOB, THE QUARTERMASTER. 

IWENTY-FOUR hours later, the two were well es- 
tablished on a snug little steamer of the Clann line, 
and steaming away from England. They were the 
only passengers on board, and were consequently 
given the full range of the steamer, without restrictions. 

" Two days ago we hardly expected to be here," said Scott, 
as they sat together on the deck. 

" Hardly," answered Richard : " but life is full of sudden 
changes ; and the more readily one adapts himself to them as 
they come, the more likely he is to make the best of them, 
and come out well at the end." 

" You mean that for me, Mr. Raymond," said Scott ; " and 
I begin to realize all that it implies. I have had a very wrong 
idea of what it was to be a hero, from reading about them 
in books. If all of this comes out right in the end, I think 
I shall know better how to be a man." 

"All must come out right, Scott," replied Richard: "we 
will make it. We will begin by making the best of our posi- 
tion now ; for, if we do not have a good time on this voyage, 
it is certainly our own fault. We shall have no one else to 
blame." 

" You are very kind, Mr. Raymond. I was wondering 
last night how in the world it could have happened that you 
could have been in Beverly at just that time, and in the 



OLD yOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 43 

woods at just that moment, and then why you should ever 
have been so good as to do what you are doing." 

Scott was going on to say more, but Richard interrupted 
him. "That is quite enough, my boy. In the first place, 
God does every thing in this world, and does it right. In 
the second place, you will learn, by and by, that men do very 
little that is not in some way for their own advantage. I 
am very anxious to find Roderick Dennett, and am only for- 
tunate, if I can do so much more than find him for myself, 
in rescuing your brother Paul at the same time." 

" You don't think he would hurt him, do you ? " asked 
Scott for the hundredth time. 

" Not a bit, Scott," replied Richard. " He is quite too great 
a coward to lay himself open to the charge of murder. He 
would do any thing in the world that was mean. He would 
do almost any thing for money, but he would do very little 
for revenge. I do not think that he would have gone to 
India, only that he was too great a coward to stay in America ; 
and before long I believe he will of himself begin to see what 
ransom he can get from your father. He will be very careful 
of Paul ; for it will be a prospect of money to him, if he keeps 
him safely. You may be sure, that, wherever Paul is, he is 
having just as good a time as is possible under the circum- 
stances." And Richard believed this ; though perhaps he said 
it a little more strongly than he really felt, in order to give 
Scott the courage that he lacked. " We are nearing the 
Spanish coast," he continued. "To-morrow night, or early the 
next morning, we shall be abreast the Cape. We must look 
out for ourselves that we don't bribe the wrong fortune here, 
and go on with what the sailors call the ' porter's portion.' " 

"What is that?" asked Scott. 



44 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"Oh! it is only one of the thousand fancies that sailors 
have connected with every point of land that is often sighted 
by ships. I was thinking how a sailor told me the story when 
I went by here almost twenty years ago. I was a sailor-boy 
up in the fo'cas'le then. I had to do a little of every thing, 
all day long, and then spend my spare time in polishing up 
the brass about the ship, just as that little urchin is doing." 
And Richard pointed to where a little stowaway was busy 
rubbing up a brass knob. He had hidden himself away under 
a bunk before the steamer left Liverpool, and did not come 
out till they were too far away to send him back. 

" You were not a stowaway, were you ? " asked Scott. 

"No; but I was the 'boy;' and a boy's lot, under any 
circumstances, is not an easy one at sea. I was very anxious 
to see all that I could of the strange countries ; but there 
was little chance of my being able to go ashore anywhere. 
There were some of the sailors, and one of them was a par- 
ticular hero of mine, who cared very little about going on 
shore, but were ready to give any thing to get a little rum. 
We had passed the Cape, and were looking forward and cal- 
culating the time that we should probably land at Gibraltar. 
We should be there during the night. This suited my sea- 
man friend ; and he made a proposition to me, that he should 
help me to escape from the steamer, and get ashore, so that 
I could go about and see every thing, if, in return, I would 
bring him back a bottle of rum." Richard laughed. " I was 
thinking of old times, and wandered away from the ' porter's 
portion.' It was the bargain he made with me that brought 
out the story. A young fisherman on the coast over there 
had made a haul of two of the finest fish he ever saw. He 
determined to present them to the king ; .and, just as he was, 




THE PORTER'S PORTION. 



46 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



he made his way to the court. The palace porter who was 
on guard objected at first to letting him in, but at last made a 
compromise with him, that he should go in and sell his fish 
to the prince, but that, in exchange, he must give the porter 
just one-half of what he received, his regular commission. 
The prince, passing through the court, and seeing the two 
splendid fish, at once ordered his butler to take them, and 
pay the fisherman whatever he asked for them. ' If it please 
your Highness,' said the fisherman, ' I should like to receive 
one hundred lashes.' This was the most severe punishment 
ever bestowed with the whip. It often cost the criminal 
his life. The prince turned in surprise, and demanded his 
reason for asking such a reward. ' Because, your Highness,' 
said he, 'the porter at the gate is in the habit of demanding 
one-half, of what we receive from your Highness, before he 
will let any of us enter ; and I know of no compensation that 
I would rather share with him than one hundred lashes.' " 

" It was good enough for him," said Scott decidedly. 

" Yes : it was good enough for him, and does very well 
for a story," replied Richard ; " and it gives the sailors some- 
thing to say whenever they hear any one making a bargain 
while they are in the neighborhood of the Cape. You must 
make the acquaintance of the quartermasters on board ; for, 
when they are off duty, you'll find them full of interesting 
stories." 

" They're a sorry-looking set of fellows," said Scott, as one 
of the quartermasters of the ship approached that part of the 
deck where they were sitting. He was a tall, gaunt, awkward 
fellow, with a wrinkled face, and sharp eyes, and hard, brown 
hands. And Scott added, " I should hate to have any thing 
to do with him." 



OLD yOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 47 

" Sailors are always rough to look at ; but they may have 
kind hearts, after all. You'll find the flowers growing wild 
in India are more beautiful than the best hothouse blossoms 
in America ; but you'll hardly find a flower in Hindoostan so 
sweet as the yellow daisies and pink roses that grow by the 
side of the road in Beverly." 

The old sailor came up, and began to work on one of 
the steamer's boats, close to them, stretching a canvas over 
it, and binding it on with a strong cord. 

"What's up. Jack? Will she catch a blow In Biscay?" 
asked Richard. 

" Bit of a brush, maybe," replied the sailor. 

" The barometer has held low ever since we started," added 
Richard. 

" Why, I heard the captain say, an hour ago, that it was 
going up fast ! " said Scott, who had begun to study the 
prospects with a nautical eye. 

" Sudden rise after low indicates a harder blow," muttered 
the sailor in a sort of singsong as he worked. 

He was quite correct in his prediction ; for before night 
it began to blow, and the waves not only ran high, but 
seemed to run in every direction. It is a peculiarity, in that 
Bay of Biscay, that every one who ever crossed It knows. 
They did not see the coast of Spain and Cape Finisterre at 
all, and were down where the Tagus River flows by Lisbon 
(the capital of Portugal), and empties Into the sea, before they 
again ventured into sight of land. It was a wild and fascinating 
coast, with its ragged ridges of rock extending to the very 
water's edge, its white cliffs gleaming here and there, and now 
and then a green gorge, where a little stream wandered down 
from the mountains. The villages along the coast were all of 



48 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



white, and looked like drifts of snow along the sand, till Scott 
went up on to the bridge with the captain, and, taking his tele- 
scope, brought the shore under the very bows of the steamer. 

"That town is Peanno, over there," said the captain. " Do 
you see the little steamer just making into the harbor?" 

"Are those towers all along the coast, lighthouses?" asked 
Scott. 

The captain laughed. " They are Moorish watch-towers," 
he said. " It was only a few years ago that the Moors ruled 
all the south of Spain and Portugal ; and they had their strong- 
holds all along the coasts, even after the entire interiors were 
given up. Those towers, and the castles about them, are im- 
pregnable, even now, to any mode of warfare but that of our 
heaviest cannon." 

" I should like to visit them," said Scott, fixing the tele- 
scope on one of them with fascinated interest. 

" So you would," replied the captain, giving an order to 
slightly change the direction of the steamer, that she might 
run a little nearer in, and give a better view. "There is 
many a wild romance connected with those Moorish towers, 
of battles and sieges, and tyrants, and lovers, and misers, and 
all kinds of every thing that went on there years and years 
ago. Now raise your glass a bit, and on the highest hill, to 
the right of Peanno, do you see a great castle, all towers 
and every thing, and a hundred times bigger than the Moorish 
towers down below ? " 

" Oh, yes, I see it ! " exclaimed Scott. " What an enormous 
thing it is ! What is it ? " 

" It's the summer palace of the king of Portugal. And 
just down at the foot of that hill, on the other side, is the 
capital, Lisbon. You cannot see it now ; but in half an hour 



OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 49 

we shall be below the mouth of the river, and you can look 
back, and see the shipping, at least, just below the city." 

"The king" of Portugal must like to read novels," said 
Scott with a sigh of envy. " Living in such a romantic place 
would make them all seem real, I should think. I never 
liked to read stories, because they never seemed true, except 
Dickens's works, and I have read all of those. I felt as if 
they were true when I read them ; and when I reached England, 
and saw it for myself, — just a little of it, I mean, — I was sure 
of it." 

" He does like to read novels better than he likes to 
fight," said the captain, laughing; "and he's got the waxiest 
little doll for a wife, and she likes to read novels too. 
They're a pretty little couple ; but they're too small for that 
castle, and they spend most of their time in a beautiful palace 
in the city, at the foot of the hills." 

" And is that all the vacation they have? It must be very 
tiresome." 

" It's hard work being a king," replied the captain. *' I'd 
rather be the captain of a good steamer than that king of 
Portugal, this minute ; and I fancy he's got the best berth 
of any of the crowned heads of Europe, so far as taking 
comfort is concerned." 

"Why is that?" asked Scott. 

" Oh ! he's plenty of money to live upon, and he's nothing 
in the way of a throne that any one wants bad enough to try 
and get it away from him." 

Just then the first officer came up, and spoke to the 
captain ; and he turned away, saying, " You must excuse me 
for a few minutes, for I want to see if my chronometers are 
keeping good time." 



^O OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Scott watched the operation without understanding much 
of it; but when the captain returned, he explained, "You 
see, we have three or four ways of taking reckonings now ; so 
that, if we make a mistake in one, we correct it in another. 
One of them is to carry two chronometers with us, giving 
the time at Greenwich. Then we know just how much the 
time at Lisbon, for instance, differs from Greenwich time ; and 
we take an observation when we are just off the point yonder, 
and find out the exact minute, and the distance we are away, 
and compare the result with the time. But there goes dinner. 
You'll lose nothing, for we shall not see land again till we 
sight Cape St. Vincent, and that'll be in the night. Then 
the next thing is the Straits and Gibraltar." 

Taking Mr. Raymond's advice, Scott followed the old 
quartermaster down into the little sailor's room, in the very 
prow of the steamer, when he knew that he was off duty. 

"Can I come in and call on you, sir?" he asked, bowing 
a little timidly. 

The old sailor looked around, leaned back against a beam ; 
and, resting his hand on the mess-table, he smiled pleasantly, 
though it wrinkled his face into all manner of criss-crosses, 
as he replied, " Drop anchor where you will, my lad. It's a 

free harbor, this voyage ; but it don't do to ' sir ' a craft like 

■>■> 
me. 

"You're older than I am, and I should say 'sir' to every 
one who is older," replied Scott. 

" Thet's by American reckonin', an' here ye stand on 
British plank," said the sailor. 

" But I am an American, and I am not ashamed of it ! " 
exclaimed Scott. 

" Steady as ye go ! " cried the old quartermaster in a firm, 



^2 ■ OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

enthusiastic voice, giving the call of the wheel-house, when 
the steamer is headed right. " But there's a difference in 
the water, that'll git ye out o' your bearings, if you keep 
that tack. You say 'sir' to an Englishman, an' he don't 
know no better than to think you mean to say that he's a 
bigger craft than you. That's what the word means in his 
signal-book. You Americans, who don't drop your ensign to 
nobody but in courtesy, can afford to go sirrin' round as ye 
will, in your own waters. But put it in your log, my lad, if 
you're an American, an' proud o' it, ye are as good as God 
save the Queen ! And don't go drop your ensign to any 
Englishman that lives." 

"Thank you, sir — I mean, thank you," said Scott with a 
laugh. " I'll put it in my log, and remember who told me ; 
but I shall have to read it over every 'day or two for some 
time, I think. Now, I came down to ask you if you had 
time to tell me a story about the sea." 

" Spin a yarn ? " asked the old quartermaster, pushing 
back his heavy hat. 

"Well, I suppose it's the same as spinning a yarn," said 
Scott. " But, for mercy's sake, don't spin it in sailor-talk, for 
I cannot understand. If you haven't time now, I'll come again." 

"Time enough, time enough!" said the old salt. "But 
how's the tide ? It's forever agin me when I try to yarn. 
I'm tongue-tied, instead o' high tide, when it comes to talking. 
And ye ask me to talk like a landlubber, too, when I don't 
know a goat from a turkey. But make fast aft there, my 
lad: I mean, sit down, and — what? no place to sit? True 
with ye ! And whatever do I do when I heave to ? Why, 
I never stopped to think, but must be I make for the mess- 
table, or ground her on the shoals behind you there." Scott 



OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 53 

sat down on the step. " And come a brush and blow, I lay 
to, and hug" the coast." And, suiting- his actions to his words, 
the old fellow sat directly down upon the floor, his sharp knees 
on a level with his sharp chin, and his back against the beam. 
" Whatever to talk about, now, is the next thing, and how- 
ever to say it in landlubber's lingo. It's bad as a fog and a 
gale, bow and stern. You'll have to give the sailin' orders, 
and start me off, my lad ; and ef it come thick weather, an' 
I drift away from shore, why, give the word, put to, call the 
points, and we'll right up agin," 

" Any thing, any thing about the sea," said Scott, his 
eyes fixed upon the old sailor's mouth ; for, in spite of his 
endeavor to talk like a landsman, it was still hard to under- 
stand, and it seemed to help the matter a little to watch the 
working of his lips. 

" Any thing about the sea ! Ugh ! It's an awful place," 
said the old sailor with a shiver. 

"What? You say so? How long have you followed the 
sea ? " asked Scott in surprise. 

"Just fifty years and two, my lad, which is since the day 
that I was launched upon life's ocean ; which, agin, was mor'n 
a thousand mile from port." 

" You were born a thousand miles from port ! " cried 
Scott. "And did you never think of leaving the sea, if it 
seems like an awful place ? " 

" I've left it mor'n twenty times, and w^us always back 
agin afore I could get my sea-legs off. Ugh ! it's an awful 
place." 

"Why?" asked Scott. 

The old man was silent for a moment. His head dropped 
down between his knees. Then he went on as thoug-h he were 



54 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



talking to himself. " My father and mother lie under the 
sea. My grandfathers were both drowned in salt water. My 
wife — my — my little boy — ay, ay, they've hove to under 
the lea o' some ugly rock, too deep down for the breakers 
to shift 'em. It's calm water there, they say, till the end o' 
the voyage. But up here ! Ugh ! When the sea's on, and 
lumpy, it's an awful place." 

" You must have been shipwrecked," said Scott, his eyes 
bright with tears for the old sailor. And he could not help 
thinking of what Mr. Raymond had said of the hearts that 
were sometimes hidden under the weather-beaten faces of 
sailors. 

" Shipwrecked," said the quartermaster with a shudder, 
"just as often as ever a seven came into my years. Seven 
time seven is forty-nine, and from out o' them I came with 
my mast-head above water. But that fills up the landings. 
Next time is four year yet to come, and that's the last. It'll 
be a stiff 'un that shivers the last timber in old Joe's keel ; 
but it's comin' at fifty-six, sure as the sea is salt." 

"I hope not," said Scott earnestly. "Was it steamers, or 
sailing-vessels, that you were on when you were wrecked ? " 

" Never pressed a steamer plank afore this voyage," replied 
the sailor. 

"Do you like it?" asked Scott. 

"Ay, ay! Give me steam," said the quartermaster en- 
thusiastically, forgetting his gloomy thoughts. " I've been 
master of a sailor for twenty year ; but they'll have to take 
the wake water, or drop aft, now. Yarn about sail ! Why, 
the last time I went ashore, she scooped me clean, with rocks 
ahead, not a stitch o' canvas drawin' ; while we a-looking in 
the eye o' destruction, and not a power could lay her to." 



OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 



55 



** I hardly understand," said Scott faintly. 

"True with you. Shiver me, lad, but I wus back aboard 
that vessel, and forgot about you and this fo'cas'le. When 
I am on land, I forget myself now and again, and it seems 
as if the street was tossin' like the ship, and I haul up, and 
put out a spar, sailor fashion, to keep her steady; and it's 




ROCKS TO STARBOARD, ROCKS TO PORT, AND A CLIFF DEAD AHEAD. 



just so talkin'. But this wus the drift of it. We wus round 
the Cape, and swimmin' like a fish. The night wus black 
as burned coffee, and blowing like — however the wind blows 
according to land lingo, I don't know, my lad ; but 'twas mor'n 
a gale. Every thing was fast but a gib for'ad, and a bit aft, 
just to steady her. 'Twas a dirty night, I tell you, and my 
seven years wus out. I knew I must come to anchor on a 



56 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

rock in that twelvemonth some time ; and, feeHng sure 'twas 
that night, I couldn't turn in, but held by the lookout. I 
knew there were islands and ugly rocks about us, but for 
my life I couldn't tell where ; and through the Straits the 
sea wus running so hard with the wind, that no anchor 
cables could 'a' held us. It was go on, or go down ; and we 
did both. Of a sudden I looked up, for something wus 
wrong. I heard the gib flapping against the stays just by 
my head. The wind wus gone, and nothing but a ledge o' 
rocks could 'a' cut it off. Then come a flash o' lightning. 
Holy Mother ! There wus rocks to starboard, and rocks to 
port, and a great ledge dead ahead, and we making for it 
full fifteen knots. Ouicker'n thought I lookea aft. The 
lightning shivered a mast, and I saw the two men at the 
wheel drop. I started for it. Heaven knows 'twould 'a' done 
no good ! but I started, when the ship careened, and I wus 
thrown fair afoul the deck-cask, and knocked almost sense- 
less. Afore I could right myself, she struck. Holy Mother!" 

The old quartermaster shivered, and seemed to shrink 
into himself, as he sat there on the floor. But Scott was too 
excited to wait long, and in a moment he asked, "And you?" 

Old Joe started. " Ha, lad, I'd forgot myself again. Oh, 
'twas awful ! The next thing I knew, I wus clinging to that 
deck-cask, and wallowing among the rocks. Not another man 
wus saved, I think ; and all the money I'd laid by in the nine 
and forty year wus in that hold as cargo. Mary, my wife, 
ay, and my little Joe, they two were asleep down in the 
little cabin. God knows, I'd risked every thing on that voyage, 
and promised Mary that it should be the last. 'Twas her last, 
but not mine. No. But had it 'a' been a steamer, she'd not 
'a' got into a place like that." 



OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 57 

Scott was so thoroughly sorry for the poor old man, that he 
even forgot his anxiety to know how he escaped at last ; and, 
trying to make him forget the sad thoughts into which the 
tale had drawn him, he took the best way in the world, by 
" setting him off on another tack," as the sailor would have 
said, in asking, — 

"Were you ever in a war?" 

" I've been in mor'n one," replied the old man thought- 
fully. 

"I wish you would tell me something about them," said 
Scott. 

" I wus once in a privateer, just off this coast," said Joe. 
" I wus skipper, and running for a tenth of the prize. The 
British held. Gib, but there wus no communication with 'em." 

"Gibraltar, do you mean?" asked Scott. 

"Ay, ay! Gibraltar. We'll be there early in the morn- 
ing. Better turn out about daylight, for the coast of Africa's 
worth seeing," 

" So I will," replied Scott. " But go on, and tell me about 
the privateer." 

" Well, the fleet had orders for Gib, and wanted news, and 
offered well for carrying a mail, and bringing back despatches. 
I heard of it, and shipped the cargo. We could sail within 
fifteen miles of Gib ; and the first black night I took my best 
boat, and my best man to row, and one good rifle, and the 
despatches. Rowing thirty miles in one night is nothing to 
laugh at ; but the sea was calm, and the wind blew just enough 
to make a noise, and hide the dip o' the oars. We reached 
Gib all right, in spite of the enemies' fleet. We went right 
under the nose of some of their big ships." 

" Were you frightened ? " asked Scott. 



58 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Not then," replied the old salt ; " for, like other big things, 
they never thought o' looking under their own noses for a 
bit of a cork with two men on it. But when we put about, 
the sea wus up a bit, and, worst of all, the lightning began 
to let loose. We saw a big ship ahead : there were no lights 
out, but we gave her the way. We were just abreast, when 
two or three flashes all together let the lookout have the sea ; 
and he sighted us. The wind was agin 'em. They did not 
even hail us, but w^e heard 'em lower away a boat. They 
had our points. We lay to our oars for life ; but it wus six 
to four, and a dead sure, that they were on us. I dropped 
my oar, and, taking up the rifle, I rammed down another 
ball. Then I lay down in the stern, and rested the rifle, 
aimed it as nearly as I could by the splash of the oars, and 
waited till I could sight by the lightning. In a minute there 
wus an awful flash. ' Steady there, captain ! ' cried my man 
at the oar ; but it wus too late. I fired. Shiver me ! I had 
never fired a gun before in all my life. I could handle a 
pistol or a cutlass, but that rifle handled me." Old Joe 
laughed, a low. chuckling laugh, as though it was a very good 
joke. 

Scott was more anxious to know what the muzzle of the 
rifle accomplished than the butt, and asked, — 

''Did you hit any one in the other boat?" 

" Came nearer hitting the man behind me," replied Joe. 
"The old eun lamed me for a month. But when I came 
hoisting myself up from the bottom of the boat, I heard a 
voice a little way off, calling, ' Captain Beer, ahoy ! ' That 
wus me ; and when I heard the voice I knew it wus my third 
mate." 

'* How came he there ? " asked Scott. 



OLD JOE, THE QUARTERMASTER. 59 

" Why, lad, 'twas my own ship we passed. They were 
afraid we would swamp in the sea that wus rising, and had 
come nearer than was safe, and we had rowed faster than we 
thought." 

Scott was tempted to smile at first, and think he had been 
listening to one of those proverbial sailor's yarns ; but the 
next moment the tears came into his eyes again for the old 
sailor, as Joe continued, — 

" I had a fair wind aft, and a clean sky, in those days ; but 
now I'm old. My keel's all barnacles. My tackle's out o' gear. 
I'm Old Joe now, the quartermaster ; and nobody hears a 
command from Captain Beer. Captain Beer's dead. He died 
when his last ship went on the rocks, with his wife and — ay, 
ay — when his little boy went down. And Old Joe will go 
down too, in four years more ; only four year, my lad. And 
the rock's growin' sharp in the sea now, that will be Old Joe's 
gravestone." 



6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 



CHAPTER VI. 

T^HALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 




P" was hardly daylight the next morning when Scott 
came on deck ; but the coast-line of Africa was 
clearly defined along the southern horizon, and the 
course of the steamer was entirely changed. The 
sun rose in front of them, instead of coming into his stateroom 
window. 

As soon as Scott appeared on the deck, the captain, who 
was on the bridge, sent for him to come up there, and giving 
him the glass, with a hearty good-morning, asked, — ■ 

"How does she head, my boy?" 

"First-rate, thank you, sir!" replied Scott cheerfully. "It 
seems good to see the sun forward." 

"Why's that?" asked the captain. 

" Oh ! because, so long as we are going toward the rising 
sun, we are so much nearer India." 

"What!" exclaimed the captain, slapping him on the 
shoulder, "tired of the sea already? It's not all like the Bay 
of Biscay : that's a dirty pond at the best. Look there, now : 
see that sand-mountain rising up ? The big desert's behind 
there. See the caravan-paths winding down the sides of the 
hills this way. And that big peak there is Ape Hill." 

"Ape Hill ?" responded Scott. "What a name for a pile 
of sand and rocks like that ! No ape would be fool enough 
to live there." 



WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 6 1 

" That's what you think now," repHed the captain ; " but, 
if you should cHmb that hill, you'd find gorges with shrubbery, 
and the shrubbery would be full of apes. And there's some- 
thinof out of the common trade in the course of those mon- 
keys too; for old Gib, over there, — you'll see it plainly when 
you come up from breakfast, — is the only spot in Europe 
where there are monkeys, and those monkeys are precisely 
the same as the monkeys on Ape Hill. They live in great 
caves on the south side of the Rock of Gib ; and there are 
caves there that no one has ever found the bottom of. Now 
it may be all a yarn, or it may not ; but they say that those 
apes have a subterranean passage under the Straits, between 
Gib and Ape Hill." 

" I shouldn't think that would be any thing so very 
strange," said Scott, looking over the masts for the great Rock 
of Gibraltar at the left. 

"Well, there you have it," replied the captain. "Then, 
you're just the one to believe the story, and chances are, 
you're right. And then, again, we come across one who will 
laugh at the very idea. But it's no use looking for Gib yet. 
You'd be disappointed, even if you could see it now. Wait 
till after breakfast, and have your first sight when it looms up 
dead ahead." 

While Scott was at breakfast, the captain sent for him to 
come on to the bridge instantly. He dropped his fork, and 
sprang bare-headed for the deck, expecting to see the great 
rock, fourteen hundred feet high, right before him ; but as 
he mounted the bridge he looked about in vain. Every thing 
was much as he left it. 

The captain, with a rifle in his hand, was giving an order 
to slow down. A moment later he turned to Scott ; and, 
pointing to a little floating foam on the water, he said, — 



62 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" See there ! — just starboard the beam ! " 

" I see some foam," replied Scott. 

" Keep your weather-eye on it," said the captain. " Look 
aHve now ! " 

After watching for a moment, a glossy blue-brown mound 
seemed to rise up in the midst of the foam. Scott was on 
the point of asking what it was, when two jets of spray shot 
into the air, and he cried, — 

" A whale ! " 

" Ay, ay, my lad ! Now keep a sharp lookout. The 
fellow's coming across our beam, and if he don't change his 
course he'll pass close in on the port side. You may get a 
shot at him." And he handed Scott the rifle. 

With trembling hand Scott took the piece, and watched 
the lumbering fellow as he slowly plunged along, spurting the 
water above him, and seeming to have no idea that a steamer 
was in the neighborhood. 

"I didn't know that there were whales down here," he 
whispered. 

" Plenty of them in the Straits," replied the captain. The 
tide runs hard in the Channel and the Narrows, and there's 
any amount of little fish here for them to feed on ; but they 
see so much of steamers, that they have learned to be careful. 
That's a young fellow, though, and he may not have his 
weather-eye out." 

The captain was right. The steamer floated so silently on 
the water, the engine being still, that the huge creature did 
not take the least notice of her. Scott waited impatiently till 
the whale was just by the steamer's course. He rested the 
rifle on the rail, and his finger twitched nervously upon the 
trigger. The sea was perfectly calm. There was no motion 



64 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



to disturb his aim. He felt sure he could hit it the next 
time it rose. Up it came, slowly, wallowing, as though en- 
joying its breakfast and morning swim. Up went a dash of 
spray. All was ready. 

"What will he do if I hit him?" asked Scott excitedly. 

" Dive," replied the captain. 

Scott began to press the trigger. 

"Will he come up again directly?" he asked. 

" Not if he is badly hurt, or scared," replied the captain. 

Again Scott bent forward, and took deliberate aim. But 
he hesitated. 

" What's the use ? " said he ; and, with a sigh of real regret 
at the sacrifice, he loosed his hold on the rifle, and stood 
erect. 

" Right you are," said the captain enthusiastically. " I 
said to myself that that was the timber you was built of, 
but I didn't know till I had tried." And Scott was prouder, 
after all, than if he had made a good shot, only to see the 
poor creature leap from its pleasure Into the waves, and dive 
in agony. 

As soon as the whale was out of sight, Scott went down 
and finished his breakfast. When he came on deck again, 
he found the Rock of Gibraltar in plain sight. The captain 
was eating his breakfast on the bridge. The harbor was so 
clearly visible with the glass, and all seemed such plain sail- 
ing, that Scott asked In surprise the cause for his keeping 
on watch. 

"There are more dangers ahead than you think for," he 
replied. " And many a ship has gone on the rocks when 
trying to enter of a bad night, before the signals were placed 
as they are now." 



WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 



65 



" How Is it now ? " asked Scott. 

" Why, there's one of the best lights there in the Medi- 
terranean Sea. And there's just one channel where any ship 
can enter, and be perfectly safe. But If she gets out of it, 
she's gone. Now, that light is red from every direction 
except when you ride dead In the channel, and then it's 
white. So we sail due east till the red disappears, and the 
light is white. Then we put her right about, and make for 
the light." 

" I don't wonder that it is a strong fortress," said Scott, 
looking up the perpendicular ledge of rock to the fortifica- 
tions built on the top, and then down to the little town 
nestling at the base. 

"Those works up there are fourteen hundred feet high, 
and they command every thing but themselves. They've 
changed hands as often as an old packet. See the green 
hill as it falls away behind ! " 

"It's a beautiful spot!" exclaimed Scott. "And grand 
too. It must be very healthy there." 

"So you might think," replied the captain; "but many's 
the British soldier and merchant that has had to leave the 
place, or die. They have a peculiar fever there that is no- 
where else in the world. They even call it the Gibraltar 
fever ; and it takes the strength out of a man like nothing 
else in the world," 

They only made a short stop at Gibraltar ; for there was 
little cargo to ship, and the captain wanted to make Algiers 
and Malta by daylight, which, in the common course, would 
be the case if he left Gib early in the day. Scott went on 
shore with Mr. Raymond, and wandered for an hour through 
the old town ; but they did not venture to climb the hill. In 



66 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



the bazaar he bought a Httle African ivory box, beautifully 
carved on the cover with the figure of one of the old Moors 
in full battle dress. 




MOOR READY FOR ACTION. 



" We should very likely fall into their hands, if we went 
far beyond the walls of Algiers, where we shall stop next," 
said Mr. Raymond. 

" Then, I think I'll stay inside the wall," replied Scott. 
*' He's an ugly-looking fellow, a perfect walking arsenal. 



WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 



67 



Look at those pistols and knives in his belt. And what a 
gun ! Do you suppose it's good for any thing ? " 

" I do, indeed," said Richard. " It is beautifully ornamented 
with silver, and some of them have jewels of great value in- 
laid ; but that is all outside. And I know, from experience, 
that those guns can fire." 

"You have tried them?" asked Scott. 

" I have felt them," replied Richard. 

" Oh, tell me about it ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Wait till we have nothing better to do. At Algiers you 
will have a chance to see some of these fellows and their 
guns. They will not look so bright as this, perhaps ; for the 
Moors are poor now, and even the robbers do not have such 
magnificent arms as they used. But the work on some of 
those old guns is simply magnificent. You thought, because 
it was so beautifully ornamented, that it was not good for 
any thing for work." 

" I know my plain double-barrel shot-gun is a deal better 
than Bobby Brackett's fancy one ; and father said it was only 
ornamented in that way to make it sell." 

" That's very true," replied Richard. "They've grown into 
that way of doing business in America ; because people will 
pay their money for any thing showy, and not care a straw 
whether it is worth any thing or not. But these fellows' guns 
are their very life to them, just like the lances and swords 
and shields of the old Saxon and Norman warriors. You 
remember those beautiful shields that we saw in England, in 
the window of the old curiosity shop ? " 

" Yes, indeed, I do ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Well, did it make them any weaker to have all that 
carving on them ? " 



68 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Of course not," said Scott. 

" It's a bad habit the people of America have grown into," 
replied Richard. " Half of them go in so much for show, that 
the other half go as far the other way, and think that any 
kind of show is an actual sin. It doesn't make these fellows' 
guns any worse to ornament them, after they have made a 
good gun in the first place, any more than it makes a real 
gentleman a fop to dress in the fashion, if he is a true and 
brave man to put the clothes on to. Don't you see ? " 

" Indeed, I do, sir," replied Scott. " And if I do not know 
what it is to be a true hero before long, it will not be because 
I've not had a good teacher : that's sure. But what made 
me think that those guns were not good for any thing, was 
because I had read about the fellows that carried them being 
unable to fire them off, and being such cowards whenever 
there was any real danger." 

"Those things do very well for travellers' stories," replied 
Richard, " and make people laugh when they read them. 
There is some ground for them, too, according to our ideas ; 
for these fellows are not the same kind of people that we are. 
Their ideas and ours are very different ; and, while we judge 
them by our notions, they are acting according to theirs. 
What we call bravery they think is bravado, and what we con- 
sider cowardice is really more discretion with them. There 
have been some very valiant deeds done by Mussulman war- 
riors and brigand robbers. It is a regular profession with 
them, and nothing to be ashamed of. And, in spite of all that 
the brave travellers say to the contrary, I should be very slow 
to put myself into their clutches, without some necessity. 
They fight like mad tigers when they are cornered." 

"You say they are not ashamed of being robbers?" asked 
Scott. 



WHALING OFF GIBRALTAR. 69 

" Not a bit of It," replied Richard. " I have talked with 
an old fellow over there in Algiers, who was constantly telling 
stories of old times, and saying, ' When I was a robber.' And 
there are many like him, — the Bedouins of Syria, for instance, 
— who consider it one of the most honorable ways of getting 
a living." 

"They must be horribly wicked people," said Scott with a 
shudder. 

" I don't know about that," replied Richard. " They are 
not civilized Christians, of course ; they would be very much 
better if they were : but we think it all right to take any thing 
from our enemies when we are at war, — it is not long since 
the days of privateers ; and they only go a little farther, and 
consider themselves always at war with every one." 

When the steamer left the harbor, they had another pas- 
senger, a military officer, going over to Malta ; and, though it 
was an unusual appendage for a soldier, he was closely followed, 
everywhere he went, by an enormous hound. He was a good- 
natured fellow ; and as Scott was fond of dogs, and the hound 
very soon discovered it, they became intimate friends at once. 
But no matter how familiar they grew, the hound could not be 
induced to remain a moment if his master was out of sight. 

" He is very fond of you, sir," said Scott to the officer, as 
he vainly tried to induce the dog to go below with him. 

" And I am very fond of him," replied the officer in good 
English, though he was not an Englishman. " We have seen 
hard times together." 

"Has he ever been in a battle?" asked Scott. 

"That he has," replied the officer; "and in more than one. 
He saved my life once at least, and I don't know how many 
more times. I was a petty officer in the ranks, and was 



70 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



wounded. At night I crept away from the field, and tried to 
make my way to camp. But it was too far. I crawled up into 
the hills, and there I fell exhausted. The poor fellow' tried to 
help me, but it was of no use. I thought I was dying, and 
for several days I lay unconscious. When I came to myself, 
there was the old fellow, thin as a starved rat, licking my hands, 
and barking at the vultures and crows that were waiting for 
my corpse." 

Scott shuddered ; but he was beginning to become accus- 
tomed to all sorts of people and ways. 

" How did you escape ? " he asked. 

" Why, the beast no sooner saw that I was up and awake, 
and able to keep the ugly carrion-flies off for myself, than he 
started away. It was an hour before he came back. I was 
faint and hungry and thirsty and every thing else. I thought 
if I could kill one of the vile birds it would be better than 
nothing ; and I tried to load my rifle, but I was too weak. I 
lay down on the rocks to go to sleep again, when a beastly 
crow came and sat down on my foot, and gave a fiendish cry 
to the rest that were lying round in ambush. I would not 
have moved my foot to shake him off; but old Zigg came 
tearing up the hill, and away he flew. I opened my eyes as 
Zigg came up. He had a hare in his mouth, that he had just 
killed. I ate a half of it raw, and he ate the rest. He was 
colonel of my commissaries, division-surgeon of my hospital, 
captain of my picket-guard, field-marshal and sergeant-at-arms, 
father, mother, and best friend, for eight days, till I was able 
to crawl on and find some help. He's old now, and beyond 
the limit of most dogs' days. He'll die pretty soon." 

Scott looked up, for the officer's voice trembled. He was 
stroking old Zigg's head gently, and the dog was looking 



72 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

into his master's face with a low whine. Scott saw that tears 
were gHstening in the soldier's eyes, and wondered how it was 
that a moment before he had thought the officer so rude and 
hard-hearted. 

"Has he ever been at sea before?" he asked. 

" Not long at a time," replied the officer. " He doesn't like 
the salt water, and I don't blame him. But he took a trip with 
me a little while ago that very few dogs ever took, and he 
seemed to enjoy it." 

"What was that?" asked Scott. 

" I was ordered to carry despatches to Paris during the 
siege, and return with replies in ten days. I went along as a 
blind beggar, and Zigg carried a string that was tied to my 
wrist. He took the cue like an old actor ; and not a living 
soul suspected that I'd not been blind and led by that dog all 
my life. In three days I was in Paris. But how to get out 
again was harder. I tried three times, and failed. At last it 
came to where I had to go. There were only three days more. 
There was a balloon in Paris, and they offered me that. I 
didn't think much of flying, especially when the fellows outside 
knew the joke, and only waited to see a balloon in the air, to 
make a target of it. The only man who knew how to run the 
engine was afraid to go. But I took lessons all the afternoon, 
and at night I started. There was a full moon ; but clouds 
were coming up, and I waited till they were almost over the 
moon. Then I got in, and Zigg with me, and away we went. 
Heavens ! how we shot up ! It took my breath away, but I let 
her go. Zigg began to howl till he found that it was all right, 
and then he enjoyed it. We shot into the black clouds and 
out of them again in an instant ; and then all was bright above 
us, and nothing but a fog-bank beneath. She was running 



74 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

away with me. I caught the rope, and began to pull. But 
suddenly I felt sick, and before I knew it I had fainted away. 
When I came to myself, we were whirling along right in the 
clouds. We must have come down a long way, I thought, and 
wondered why, till I looked round, and there sat Zigg, with 
the rope in his mouth, pulling for dear life. He must have 
seen it drop from my hands when I fainted, and taken the 
matter in mouth himself, because he could not take it in hand. 
I had no idea where we were ; but she was dropping, and I let 
her drop. We made bad work of landing ; but we were all 
right when we got out, and we left the old man's balloon hang- 
ing tangled up in a grove of trees." The officer turned to 
the dog again, and, laughing, said, " Old boy, your teeth are all 
gone now. You couldn't hold a string in those old jaws ; but 
your will's as good as ever it was." And getting up, he walked 
away, with Zigg following close at his heels. 



ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 75 




CHAPTER VII. 

ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 

JLGIERS is a horrible place ! " exclaimed Scott, as he 
came on deck in the morning, and examined the 
little African town that they were approaching. 

"That depends upon how you see it, and where 
you look," replied the captam. " Point your glass up the hill 
there, port a little. There you are! What do you think of 
that ? " 

" Beautiful ! beautiful ! " exclaimed Scott. " What pretty 
little houses there about the grove ! And what is that big 
building? What makes them have those great white fences 
all about every house ? Oh, I know ! It's to keep the robbers 
off." 

" Right you are," replied the captain. 

" And what splendid broad roads ! The street commis- 
sioners of Boston should come over here, and find out how 
it looks to have their work properly done. They have done 
it just half way for so long, that they begin to think that 
that is really the right way to do it. And those are splendid 
wharves there too. Well, Algiers is not so bad, perhaps ; but 
that's a miserable little town down under the hills, on the 
water." 

" It's a little odd at first, like all heathen places ; but, when 
you get used to them, you'll like them, I warrant you. Every 
one does ; and, after you've been back in America for a while, 



76 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

you'll begin to sigh for another sight of the horrible places, 
as you call them now." 

They made a very short stop at Algiers, to ship a small 
amount of cargo ; but Mr. Raymond and Scott took advantage 
of the two hours to go on shore. And Scott began to feel 
that fascination of which the captain had spoken : every 
thing was so wild, so strange, so intensely interesting, in 
spite of the bad smells and dirty streets, that were so narrow 
that sometimes they could almost touch both sides at once. 

There were such strange people as he had read of in 
" The Arabian Nights." There were Arabs and Moors and 
Turks, in all sorts of strange dresses, — some with fancy 
turbans on their heads, and fancy little jackets on their backs, 
and bagging breeches. Then there were fellows with cloaks 
all over them, even around their heads, bound there by a 
smaller turban. Some were very light, and some were very 
dark ; but there were none so black as the negroes of Boston. 

"These are not Africans, are they?" Scott asked Mr. 
Raymond in surprise, 

"Indeed, they are," said Richard. "Why did you think 
not ? " 

"Why, the Africans are very black," replied Scott. 

"The Africans that we see in America are black enouo-h, 
surely ; but they come from a very little corner compara- 
tively, — chiefly from the coast, far down to the South. The 
people of Zululand, or Zanzibar, are black, with thick lips 
and curling hair. But there are many Africans who are almost 
as white as we are, and all shades between." 

The booths, or native shops, of the bazaar, which itself is 
only a street of these shops, are not large stores, such as one 
finds in America ; and Scott stopped in wonder before the 




IN THE BAZAAR 



78 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

little things, hardly larger than his stateroom on the steamer, 
filled up with all sorts of wares, beautiful cloths, jewelry, and 
the pottery that is so precious in America. He recognized 
some bits very much like ornaments in his own home. 

They stopped for a moment before one of the largest 
shops in the bazaar, where a very pretty young woman was 
having some silver ornaments fitted to her arm. She had a 
thin veil over her face ; but she was almost white, and through 
it her pretty features could be very plainly seen. 

" She is a Mussulman woman," said Richard. " It is the 
custom for all of them to go veiled ; but she is so pretty, that 
she hates to hide her face, so she makes the veil very thin. 
The old fellow standing behind her there, smoking the cigar- 
ette, is her husband. See that beautiful rug behind her, 
hanging on the wall." 

" I don't call it beautiful," said Scott. 

" Never mind, your mother and sisters would," replied 
Richard, laughing. " You could buy it for a song here, if 
you took the right course with the white-bearded old fellow ; 
but in Boston it would cost thirty or forty dollars, at the 
very least." 

At that moment some one slapped Mr. Raymond on the 
shoulder, and a hearty voice exclaimed, — 

" Speaking of Boston reminds me that I came from there 
myself a long time ago. It seems like a lifetime ; and I'm 
overjoyed to find any one else in the same box." 

They found themselves greeted by a Boston artist, there 
in the bewildering and dirty bazaar of Algiers, where Scott 
had thought himself surrounded by nothing but heathendom. 
The artist had been living there for several years, sending 
his pictures back to America for sale. He was disappointed 



ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 79 

when he learned that they were to leave in an hour and a 
half, but insisted on their coming with him to his house, 
just in the outskirts of the town, and having breakfast with 
him. 

It was a pretty little place, on the verge of a hill, with a 
garden of brilliant flowers all about it, at one end of which 
Scott was amazed to see a tangle of dandelions and butter- 
cups. 

" Do they grow here ? " he asked, while his heart seemed 
beating in his throat, as his eyes rested on those little blossoms. 

"No, indeed!" replied the artist, tenderly picking one for 
each of his guests, and presenting them as though they had 
been the choicest of moss-roses. " I brought them with me 
from home. I had some daisies too, but I could not make 
them live. I know of nothing in the world that carries the 
heart back to dear old New England, when it is weary of 
being away, like the dandelions and daisies and buttercups. 
This is the most precious part of my garden. And it is a 
little peculiar ; but my neighbors, the natives living about 
here, think there is nothing so beautiful in the world, and 
almost all of them have roots growing in their gardens. 
They say, ' What a wonderful country yours must be, where 
such beautiful and fragrant flowers as the dadelean grow wild ! ' 
and, now that I am away from it, I am tempted to agree 
with them." 

" Then, why don't you go back ? " asked Scott more abruptly 
than he thought, he was so busy caressing the little yellow 
flower. 

The artist smiled. " I am making my fortune here," he 
said ; " and I expect to go back when that is made perhaps. 
But, after all, I love this place. There is something very 



8p OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

fascinating in Oriental life. I think we are too far from it 
in America. We are too rigid and straight there, and make 
life too much of a burden. There is Russia, for instance : it 
is much colder, and harder to keep comfortable there, than at 
home; but they are perfect Orientals, — the wealthy I mean, 
of course. I love America ; and, if I were not an American, 
I believe there is nothing in the world that I should long for 
so much as to be one. And yet, after each time that I have 
gone home for a vacation, the first sight of these long-robed, 
dark-skinned fellows, their dirty streets, their curious customs 
and melodious languages, have thrilled me with a pleasure 
that I cannot express. I hope that fortune may never place 
me where I shall be unable, at times, to revisit the Orient." 

The artist turned away from his bed of buttercups, and 
conducted his guests to his little breakfast-room. After break- 
fast he opened his studio at their request ; and, as Scott was 
particularly pleased with a painting which the artist had made 
of his grandfather, — who was one of the famous sculptors of 
London nearly a century ago, — in the act of making a clay 
model for a marble bust of the lord-mayor, that now stands 
in the Council chamber of the Houses of Parliament in Lon- 
don, he presented him, when he left, with a little medallion 
of the painting on a piece of ivory, that, about the outside, 
was beautifully carved, to form a frame. 

" I shall keep it as long as I live," said Scott to Mr. 
Raymond, as they were being rowed out to the steamer; " and 
I shall press this dandelion, and keep that too. He was a 
first-rate fellow, and I never thought half enough of our but- 
tercups at Beverly before." 

To occupy the time while on the voyage, Mr. Raymond 
succeeded in interesting Scott in the engineering of the 




IN MEMORY OF A PLEASANT HOUR. 



82 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

steamer, among other things ; and here he had a valuable 
assistant in the chief engineer, who was an enthusiast in his 
department, as every man should be to succeed. Economical 
consumption was the order of the day ; and economical con- 
sumptionists had to give the palm, thus far at least, to this 
chief engineer. 

" You see," he said to Mr. Raymond and Scott one day 
as they came into his cabin, shortly after leaving Algiers, and 
caught him figuring, — "you see, the coal costs so much, that 
it is really one of the greatest items of the entire voyage. 
Why, I am going to save as much in coal, over what this 
same steamer consumed three years ago, as the salaries and 
feed of the whole crew for the entire voyage, including the 
captain and all." 

"What makes the coal cost so much?" asked Scott. 

" Transportation, my boy," replied the chief. " It has to 
be shipped from England to Gib and Malta and Port Said 
and Aden and Ceylon, and so on, to the end of navigation. 
Every mile that it is carried costs so much more coal to 
carry it ; and then it has to be stored and reshipped, and 
there's the insurance, the loss, the interest, and every thing 
else." 

" Why don't you carry coal enough to last ? " said Scott. 

" Take mor'n the steamer could carry, to last her the 
voyage. But look at here ! See what I have done this voy- 
age. We've three thousand tons dead freight." 

"What's dead freight?" asked Scott. 

"It is the solid, paying freight down in the holds. We 
have averaged over ten knots an hour." 

" I call that very slow time, especially when one is in a, 
hurry," interrupted Scott ; for he felt every delay and deten- 



ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 



83 



tion more keenly than he might under almost any other 
circumstances. " Our American steamers go it at fifteen 
knots and over, and then the passengers complain." 

"They are English steamers, after all, that take you so 
rapidly across the Atlantic," replied the chief a little gruffly, 
for economy was just then his hobby. " But even they could 
not do that in this water, no matter how much coal they 
burned." 

"Why not?" demanded Scott, ready to fight for any thing 
that was even so much American as a steamer leaving an 
American port. 

" There are several reasons. The density of the water is 
one. It is harder making time in this water than in the 
Atlantic. Then, the temperature is very much against us. 
The steam is condensed, you know, by constantly pumping 
water from the sea over the steam radiators. If you take a 
bottle half full of hot water, let the steam rise till it has filled 
the other half, and driven out the air, then cork it securely, 
and pour cold water over the half that is filled with steam, 
you will make the water boil ; and the colder the water is 
that you pour over the outside of the bottle, the harder the 
water inside will boil. It is on precisely the same principle 
that we magnify the heat of steam produced by the fires. 
When we are in water that is as warm as your blood, you 
can see that we get less benefit." Then he turned to Mr. 
Raymond, as though he were a little tired of talking to an 
unappreclative listener, and continued, "What I am proud 
of is, that we have made such time, with this burden, at an 
expense of actually less than fifteen tons of coal a day. 
Why, when ' The Great Eastern ' crossed the Atlantic in 
1867, she only made fifteen knots an hour, and she actually 
burned over three hundred tons of coal every day." 



84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Yes," added Mr. Raymond : " the steamer that we have 
just crossed on consumed over a hundred tons a day, and 
they thought they were doing very well." 

"They can afford it," said the engineer. "In the first 
place, it costs them comparatively little. Then, their celebrity 
in opposition depends, in great part, on their speed." 

"I wish there was more opposition here," interrupted 
Scott, who did not intend to let the chief go too easily. 
But he only smiled, and continued, — 

" They carry large lists of passengers, and set expensive 
tables ; and one meal even is worth saving, even though at 
cost of a little more coal. It is just the other way with us." 
Scott was on the point of saying, " I should think so : " but 
he decided that he had already said too much ; and though 
the table of the steamer, like that of all the English steamers 
for India, was very poor, he laughed with himself over the 
little joke, and let the chief go free. 

" But I should think, that, if you can go ten knots so very 
cheaply, you might at least add another knot or two, which 
would save a deal of time at the end of the voyage." 

"That is just it," replied the chief pleasantly. "It is just 
that last straw that breaks the camel's back ; and that is where 
I am making the greater part of my saving. If you are 
walking down street, at home, on a warm day, and you walk 
leisurely, you can go a great way without being very warm." 

" I might in Boston, but I could not here," replied Scott, 
wiping the perspiration from his face. 

"Well, I am talking about Boston now, my boy. If you 
hurry, you become heated and tired before you have gone 
half as far." 

" I know that that is so," replied Scott. He was taking 



ALGIERS AND ENGINEERING. 85 

Old Joe's advice with the greatest care : and, of all men on 
board, he did not mean to "sir" the chief engineer; for he 
could not but feel that in some way he was a little to blame 
for the slow progress that they were making. 

" Very well. It is just so with the engine." 

" If you keep the engine greased well, it should not get 
heated," said Scott, a little doubtful about the propriety of 
the engineer's logic. 

" Not exactly. But while it is very easy to drive the 
steamer at a moderate rate through the water, when we go 
faster the friction begins to tell, and the wheel, of course, 
has to turn much faster to produce the same effect. And 
every mile that we increase on the easy speed takes an in- 
creasingly larger quantity of coal. Many of the engineers 
who are trying to reach this economical plan do not think 
of this," added the chief with a chuckle ; and Scott said, with 
a shrug of his shoulders, — 

" I hope we shall go back on a steamer where the chief 
has not found it out." 



86 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 




T was night when the steamer reached Malta, in spite 
of all calculations to the contrary. Mr. Raymond 
went on shore to learn of the steamer from New 
York, and was assured that the two passengers whom 
he sought had transferred to the Indian steamer at that port. 
He was sure of it in advance ; but now additional weight was 
added to his theory, and all that was left was for them to reach 
Bombay at the earliest moment possible. 

All that Scott saw^ of Malta was the high walls of natural 
rock rising up out of the water, all about the steamer, with 
little houses built on the cliffs, and forts and fortifications on 
all the prominent places overlooking the almost land-locked 
bay. But he would much sooner have left without seeing even 
that than have waited an hour longer than necessary. 

With the first gray light they were again under way. All 
sails were set ; and, in spite of economy of coal, they were able 
to make the ofreat lio^ht of Port Said as the sun went down on 
the evening of the fourth day. There they were to coal up ; 
and a gloomy place it made of the pretty saloon of the steamer, 
to close it up fore and aft, and shut all the ports of the state- 
rooms, and draw the Venetian blinds and latches. But it had 
to be done, for a dirtier place can hardly be found on earth 
than one of the Indian steamers when they are coaling. 

Very slowly they worked their way up the harbor, till they 



SIGBTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 87 

lay within a stone's throw of the cafes and dance-houses that 
are so abundant in Port Said. Instantly the steamer was sur- 
rounded with small boats of all sorts and sizes, with all kinds of 
passengers. But they were an ugly-looking set in the night, 
and Scott was not particularly enchanted with the terrible racket 
that was kept up. He went into his stateroom, but it was very 
warm and close. When the ship's papers were signed, and 
the crowd of agents was allowed to come on board and make 
their bargains for supplying the coal and provisions that were 
needed, the steamer became a little more quiet, and Scott went 
up on to the bridge to watch the operation of coaling. 

Huge flat-boats — lighters, they called them — came along- 
side. The coal is piled up in cubic blocks fifteen or twenty feet 
each way, with little alleys between them. One after another, 
the lighters are pushed up beside the steamer, one on each 
side ; and a narrow plank is run on the steamer's deck from 
each end of each of the lighters, and one from the middle if the 
steamer has four shoots to the coal-bunks. Then a multitude 
of vile Arabs, who are covered with the dirt of years at this 
business, with coarse blankets on their heads, upon which they 
carry baskets of coal, start on one never-ending line up the 
two planks at the ends of the lighters, dumping the contents 
of the baskets in the shoots, and meeting in the middle to 
come down the plank there in solid file for fresh basketfuls. 

The officers of the steamer usually weigh this coal in some 
way,, to avoid deception. This time the chief engineer went 
through the lighters ; and, picking out several of the blocks, he 
measured them carefully, and weighed them on large scales 
fixed over the shoots, as they were brought up. Then he 
measured all the other blocks, and estimated from thosp he had 
weighed. Then the work began in good earnest. The lines 



g8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

were formed. The Arabs began to sing a horrible nasal song, 
and to climb the narrow plank, one close behind the other. 

Port Said was a dirty little town, made up only of such 
people as could earn a living or a fortune out of the steamers 
that were continually stopping there ; and after an hour's stroll 
the next morning, through the damp streets, vile smelling, and 
teeming in the heat of the sun, that was something terrific, 
the two travellers went back again to the steamer, perfectly 
satisfied to be under way again. 

The Suez Canal was a sight that Scott had looked forward 
to ever since starting for India. He was disappointed, and 
yet it was wonderful. It was only a narrow river of salt water, 
not half as wide, at the most, as the steamer was long. There 
were low banks on either side, of the whitest of white sand ; 
and now and then there was a station, an official building, and 
sometimes two or three hovels about it. The officials at these 
stations managed the progress of the steamers by telegraph 
with the other stations, to prevent any accidents ; for the 
channel was not wide enough for two steamers to pass, and 
the first steamer to pass a station had the right of way to the 
next. Sometimes a steamer was unfortunate, and had to keep 
tying up all day long, to let others pass, and was three or even 
four days in getting through the canal ; but usually it was not 
more than two, and in the long days steamers have been 
through in a single day. But this is not often the case : for, 
at the best, they are only allowed to go at the very slow, rate 
of five knots an hour, except in the Bitter Lakes ; and they can 
only move between sunrise and sunset, except with especial 
permission, which is hard to obtain. 

It was rather monotonous, but Scott did not mean to lose 
any of it on that account. The pilot of the Canal Company 



90 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Stood on the bridge, so that the captain was not so much con- 
fined as he had been ; and Scott always found his company 
interesting. Now and then, too, there was a sight that was 
well worth seeing In a little oasis, or a little native village as 
gray-white as the sand which was all about It, or a caravan, or 
a pilgrim winding his way along the banks. 

"Whatever possessed those natives to build a village 
there ? " Scott asked the captain, pointing to a little town they 
were passing. " There is not a green thing anywhere about it." 

" There is nothing green just now." replied the captain ; 
" and at the best there is not much to boast of, thouofh In the 
winter and spring there is a little grass about the houses. 
But they certainly find something to live on, or they would not 
be there. Caravans always stop there, for one thing. There 
is a ferry a little lower down, and we shall very likely see a 
caravan crossing. But there's always something to do wherever 
there is a village : you may depend on that, no matter where 
you are. Were you ever in the north of Norway ? " 

" No, sir," replied Scott, surprised that the captain should 
ask him such a question, forgetting that Norway was really 
much nearer his home than the Suez Canal. 

"Well, when you go to Norway," said the captain, "you 
will see, along the northern coast, a hundred villages with less 
show for a livl-ng than yonder town. Every thing Is bare rocks 
there, and Icy cold ocean. They have a legend, that when God 
had completed the world, and made every thing beautiful, he 
lay down to take a nap, and that the Evil One was so outraged 
that he had succeeded so well, that he took up a tremendous 
rock, and threw It with all his strength at the world. It struck 
near the pole, and was shivered to small pieces. It would have 
sent the entire hulk into kingdom come, had not God waked 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 



91 



up at that moment, and put his hand on his trembhng- world, 
to keep it where it was. But it tipped the earth a little way, 
and that is why the poles are inclined, to this day. There was 
but little of the material left from which God had made the 
earth ; and that he spread, as best he could, in a few of the 
cracks between the ugly splinters of the rock that the Devil 
threw. That was all he could do, and to this day that bar- 
ren splintered rock remains ; and that is Norway. And yet 
there is a whole nation of people living up there, and making, 
not only good livings, but such fortunes, sometimes, that many 
from Denmark and Germany are tempted up into those frozen, 
rocky deserts, in a desire to get rich." 

Scott made up his mind that one of the first things he did, 
when he became a man, would be to go to Norway, and see 
that strange land that the Devil added to the beautiful world 
that God had made. But he had no time to ask more about 
it then, for just ahead appeared the ferry of which the captain 
had told him ; and to his delight he discovered that a caravan 
was in the very act of crossing. He left the bridge, and went 
as far forward as possible, to obtain a better view. 

Thirty or forty camels, with curious bags upon their backs, 
and some of them with a man or woman balanced between 
the bags, were huddled upon one bank, and as many were 
forming into a new line of march on the other. Between 
the two, a broad, flat-bottomed boat was slowly moving, with 
its long-necked burden. There were white and black camels, 
and almost all shades between. But they were shaggy, dirty 
creatures, and not the handsome, graceful animals that Scott 
supposed the real camels of the real Orient must be. Old 
Joe was beside him, holding a rope, for they had been sig- 
nalled to tie up ; and Scott gave vent to his disappointment 
in words. 



^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

The old quartermaster did not move his head, or hardly 
his lips ; for it was against the strictest orders to speak to 
passengers when upon canal duty ; but he answered him 
nevertheless. 

" Mind how you look at things, my lad," said he. " A 
ship comin' out o' a long voyage, her masts and spars all 
black, her riggin' ragged, her canvas dunned, the paint 
knocked off her keel, and barnacles a-hangin' to her water- 
line, — there's nothing purty about sich. And them ships o' 
the desert is built on the same stocks." 

" Very well," said Scott, laughing, and apparently speak- 
ing to himself; for he saw that he had made a mistake in 
breaking the rules: "I will wait till I see them under better 
circumstances." 

"Wait till ye overhaul a camel that's not been loggin' 
sand for three months, and ye'll see as neat a ship as ever 
sailed the sea. They hail from Bagdad, those camels, and 
they're headed for Cairo." 

Scott beean to look at them with new interest, and to 
think them a wonderful sight, after all. All the way from 
Bagdad ! No wonder they were dusty. 

Several very small steamers passed them, carrying passen- 
gers up and down the canal, — steamers made for canal travel, 
that drew only a few inches of water, and could go close up 
to the banks. There were other small craft, too, in the canal, — 
native sailing-boats, creeping along from one station to another 
with loads of fish and melons. They were curious melons, 
yellow as gold, and shrivelled like a summer squash. Scott 
thought they were pumpkins, and bought three of them, and, 
carrying them in triumph to the chief steward, asked him to 
have some American pumpkin-pies made of them. 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAI. 93 

The steward replied that he would find them better raw, 
and began to cut a piece from one of them. 

" That's because you Englishmen don't know what an 
American pumpkin-pie is," said Scott with a toss of his head. 
But when he saw the steward really begin to eat the piece 
he had cut off, and as though he enjoyed it, he cut off one 
too, and, to his astonishment, found himself eating one of the 
coolest, sweetest, and most delicious cantelopes he had ever 
tasted. He did not say any more about pie ; but the first 
time that the steamer stopped again, and he had an oppor- 
tunity, he bought a basketful of those pumpkins, and Mr, 
Raymond very willingly assisted him to dispose of them raw. 

The fish that the fellows had to sell were caught in the 
canal. They were large and very good. It gave Scott an 
idea ; and, when the steamer was still at night, he tried his 
luck over the stern. Some of the boatmen had clams for 
sale too : they were a little odd in shape ; but Scott's home 
was New England, and he knew the peculiar virtues of clam- 
bakes and oyster-stews, and again went to the chief steward, 

'' Can't we have some fried clams for breakfast ? " he asked. 

" Certainly," replied the steward : " any thing that the ship 
has, or can get, you are welcome to ; but you must agree to 
eat them, if they are cooked expressly for you." 

" Of course I will," said Scott, but a little doubtfully, for 
he remembered the pumpkin-pie. " What is the matter with 
them ? " he added, as the steward smiled. 

" Oh, nothing much ! Only they are full of sand." 

" Never mind the sand ! " Scott exclaimed. '' I euess I 
can go them for all that." And he honestly tried to, when 
the tempting little dish was set before his plate at the table : 
but it was inexpressibly worse than eating Beverly straw- 



94 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

berries before they were washed ; and, boy that he was, he 
had given that up years ago. 

It was very hot in the canal. The sun beat down with 
nothing to break its force, and the sand returned good in- 
terest for all that fell upon it. The glare, too, was terrible ; 
and, long before they were out of it, Scott had to borrow of 
the captain a pair of colored glasses, for his eyes began to 
suffer. At night the heat seemed even more oppressive. 
The breeze that blew from the baking sand-banks was almost 
hotter than the sun. Scott opened his port window wide, on 
going to bed, in spite of the steward's warning, that, before 
morning, he would be nearly eaten up with sand-fleas. The 
steamer was so still that he did not go to sleep at once, and 
was only drowsy when he heard Mr. Raymond come softly 
into his room, and shut the port. He thought it was for 
the sand-fleas, and, turning over, said, — 

"I left it open on purpose. I'd much rather be eaten 
up than roasted," 

Richard laughed, and replied, " You'll be neither roasted 
nor eaten up, but frozen to death before morning, if you 
leave your port open in the canal at this season," 

Scott was too sleepy even to laugh at what he supposed 
was a joke of some sort ; but he remembered it, and found 
it no joke, after all, when he awoke about two o'clock with a 
cold chill. He drew a blanket over him, but it seemed im- 
possible to get warm ; and at last he partially dressed him- 
self, and went out to walk in the saloon. In a few moments 
the chill left him ; but the re-acting fever set in, and he seemed 
burning up. At the end of the saloon was the cabin side- 
board and a sort of pantry in a little room opposite the cap- 
tain's cabin. The water-tank was kept there, and Scott went 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 



95 



in for a drink. As he opened the door, there was a scurry 
of feet on the floor, a yelp, a flash from two greenish-yellow 
eyes, and a large, dark figure leaped out of the window, 
touched the deck, bounded over the narrow stretch of inter- 
vening water, and went howling up the sand-hill before he 
could either be frio^htened and shut the door, or be darine 
enough to think of some mode of attacking the creature. It 
effectually cured the fever, however ; and, when he went to 
bed again, his knees were not precisely steady, and he was 
enjoying a healthy perspiration. 

The steamer was under way again when Scott awoke in the 
morning; and, when he came into the saloon, the second steward 
was complaining to the chief that some of the sailors had stolen 
a cold roast that he left in the saloon pantry the night before. 
He said they must have taken it through the large sideport, 
which he left open to keep the meat cool, and save him the 
trouble of going to the ice-chest with it. 

" You left the deck-port open, did you ?" growled the chief 
in a surly way. " Did you never know that the jackals along 
these banks are tame as kittens ? Take the price of the roast 
out of your pay at the end of the voyage. Go about getting 
the breakfast." 

Scott smiled at the fright he had received the night before 
all from a frightened jackal. 

" I did come near freezing," he said to Richard when he 
appeared on deck. " What makes it so cold in the canal at 
night?" 

"It is always cold on a desert before morning," replied his 
friend. " There is a deep philosophy in it, which you will find 
out in the course of delving through college. Books will teach 
you every thing, Scott; and there are hosts of people who think 



g6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

their children should learn every thing from books, and would 
rather they would spend a year in college to find it out than to 
sleep one night on the Suez Canal. But you'll not forget it 
half so quickly as if you'd dug it out of a dog-eared book. The 
sun shining on the sand all day makes an oven of it, that sends 
up a torrent of heat. The whole of South Europe, you know, 
is kept warm by the hot wind from the Sahara ; and, of course, 
to have that hot wind blow, a cold wind must be supplied from 
somewhere, to be heated." 

"Oh, I see!" exclaimed Scott; "and after sundown the 
supply keeps on, and as long as the sand remains hot the 
furnace continues to run all right ; but, when the heat is ex- 
hausted, it becomes colder and colder, till, in the re-action, it at 
last becomes colder than the surrounding air." 

" I should think that that covered it," replied Richard, 
smiling, " though a philosopher would laugh at us, you may be 
sure." 

Just before breakfast the steamer passed Ismalia, a little 
town upon a lake, with a beautiful stretch of blue water about 
it, and a dense green jungle behind. A palace of the Khedive 
was surrounded by a large garden at one end of the town ; and 
a little farther down the bank was the palace that was built for 
the Emperor Napoleon, at the opening of the Suez Canal. 

" It must be fun to have such a time made over you as that, 
and have a palace built for you, whenever you expect to stop 
over night where the hotels are not grand enough to satisfy 
you," said Scott, looking admiringly at the little gray sandstone 
palace. 

"And it must be fun to be kicked out, as Napoleon was, 
when the people are tired of you, and not have them care a 
straw whether you have a roof to cover you or not." 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 



97 



" Perhaps it's just as well to go along sort of half and half, 
after all," said Scott. 

" I am inclined to think it is much better," replied Richard ; 
but Scott was eagerly watching a native craft that had been 
slowly sailing along the border of the canal, in the shoal water, 
with a heavy load of melons. When they had nearly passed 
her, the Arab at the helm veered a point toward the steamer, 
and suddenly the old craft began to increase its speed. Faster 
and faster it went, till it kept up with the steamer, and its 
prow was just ahead of the steamer's wheel. The weak and 
heavily-laden boat sagged and bent, and seemed ready to go to 
pieces, and the huge sail hung against the bamboo mast. Scott 
studied the matter intently. He saw that Mr. Raymond was 
watching him, and he hated to ask him to explain the curious 
sight. It was evident that something was dragging the craft 
along at a terrific rate for her, and that those on board were 
having a very good time over it. The propelling power came 
from the steamer in some way, for the boat neither gained nor 
lost after it had once come into position ; but there was no 
rope, or any means of communication with the steamer. 

" Do you give it up ? " asked Richard, smiling. 

" No, indeed, sir," said Scott stoutly. And just at that 
moment his eye fell on the water, and he began to see through 
it, or into it at least. In going forward, the steamer, of course, 
pushed just so much water out of place, or made a hole in the 
canal ; and, just as soon as the steamer had passed, it left the 
hole with nothing to fill it, unless the water rushed up from 
behind, and down from both sides, to take the place. This 
made a current rushing in behind the steamer at precisely the 
same rate at which the steamer was going, and the Arabs had 
learned the trick of taking- advantaofe of it. 



98 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" It is what they call stealing our wake-water," said Richard, 
when Scott had satisfactorily solved the matter. "There's 
another great principle of philosophy that you'll understand 
already, when you come across it, years hence, in some of those 
musty books." 

About two-thirds of the way through the canal they came 
upon the Bitter Lakes, — enormous salt lakes stretching over 
the white sand, with a station or two and a green spot or two 
appearing here and there, and salt marshes everywhere. 

Here they were allowed to go at full speed ; and, the way 
being carefully marked by signals, even the pilot came from 
the bridge with a sigh of relief, and lit a cigar. All of a 
sudden Scott began to realize that it was no laughing matter 
to take a large steamer through seventy-five miles of that 
narrow path, where the least deviation in the course, or the 
least swerving to the current or the wind, or an instant's 
delay in giving an order to the men at the wheel, or in 
having it obeyed, or the slightest objection of the steamer to 
mind the helm, even a hand's breadth, would send the prow 
into the soft bank of the channel ; and, of course, the motion 
of the steamer would then bring the stern round to the 
opposite side, and there the steamer would lie, stuck fast, 
fore and aft. 

"Did such a thing ever occur?" Scott asked the captain. 

" When the canal was first opened, and the pilots had 
not learned the new business, it often happened," replied the 
captain. " I have lain still in this water for four days, wait- 
ing for them to unload a large ship, that was stuck so fast 
that nothing else would get her out. There is a sort of suc- 
tion in the sand ; and the tendency is to draw tighter and 
tighter, when once a steamer has run her nose into it. But 



SIGHTS IN THE SUEZ CANAL. 



99 



the pilots are growing brighter and brighter every year. 
You might have noticed, — but I fancy you didn't, after all, — 
a little while ago, the wind took us a bit, and I thought her 
nose was right in it, on the port side. Quicker'n thought the 
pilot gave the order to go ahead at full speed, and put her 
helm hard-a-port. In a couple o' winks that would have 
driven her square into the bank for which she was heading ; 
but the jump that the engines gave her, and just the motion 
of the rudder in going round, sent her in a bit aft, like the 
push of an oar in skulling a fish-boat ; and, before she could 
feel the helm, he had put it to starboard again, and slowed 
down, and we were all right in the channel. It's a wonder- 
ful thing, this handling a steamer," he added with a sigh, 
and leaned back against the rail in silent admiration. 

By good fortune they made the rest of the canal without 
detention ; and, in the dusk that so quickly succeeds an 
Egyptian sunset, they passed the station beyond Suez, 

The city itself lay three miles back upon the bay ; but 
Mr. Raymond assured Scott that he lost nothing in not 
seeing it, for, though larger than Port Said, it was upon 
precisely the same principle, supported only by the steamers 
that stopped there, and of no importance to the sight-seer. 



lOO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER IX. 

ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 

']HEY did not leave the deck that night till the dim 
coast of Egypt on one side, and the shores of the 
arm of the Red Sea on the other, were lost to sight 
in the dim shadows. 

" It seems as though the journey were completed," said 
Scott. 

" Yes," replied Richard, as they went below : " we have 
passed the great gateway between the Occident and Orient. 
But what is the matter, Scott ? you look pale," he added, as 
they came into the light of the saloon. 

" I have felt queer," said Scott with a shiver, " ever since 
taking my bath this morning." 

All the Oriental steamers are supplied with several bath- 
rooms, that are always popular, where the passengers can 
bathe in water drawn fresh for them from the ocean. 

"Where were we when the steward drew the water for 
your bath this morning?" asked Richard. 

" In the Bitter Lakes, I think." said Scott. 

"That explains it," replied Richard, much relieved, for he 
feared the heat of the voyage might be proving too much 
for his young friend. " Those lakes are very broad, and 
rather shallow ; and the great heat of the sun, and the porous 
bed, carry off such a vast amount of water, of the fresh-water 
part at least, that that which is left becomes the saltest, 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. loi 

hardest, and, to speak plainly, the most electric water in the 
world, except, perhaps, the water of the Dead Sea. When 
you undress, you will find yourself all covered with fine white 
dust. You had better have the steward bring some hot fresh 
water to your room, and take a thorough bath in it. In an 
hour or two I will come in and see how you feel." 

"That is another bit of philosophy that has come to me 
without the aid of books," said Scott, laughing, as he went 
to his room, and acted as Richard had advised, with perfect 
success, 

" Do you think we have crossed the place where the chil- 
dren of Israel went over on dry land ? " he asked Mr. Ray- 
mond, when they went on deck in the morning. 

Richard smiled. "That would be a hard thing to say," 
he replied. " You know, there are a host of theories about 
the flight of the children of Israel, and just what the Bible 
means. I don't agree at all with people who think it is only 
a story. I believe there is truth in it, and that, when Moses 
wrote of it, he meant to tell a true history. But the question 
is, whether we understand it correctly. There was a book 
published only a little while ago, in Germany, which appeared 
to explain it very sensibly. The name that is used in the 
original is not that of the Red Sea, but the Reedy Sea. 
That was the name of this northern part of the Red Sea ; 
but it was also the name of a long, swampy sea just north 
of what is now Port Said, and to the west of it. When the 
wind was strong from the east, this was dry land, and, when 
it came strong from the west, it piled up the Mediterranean 
till the water there was quite deep. That was just the course 
that the children of Israel would have taken in gfoinof into 
Syria, for the regular caravans all went that way ; and, when 



I02 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

they were in such haste to get out of the kingdom of Pharaoh, 
they would not have come way down here to the south, and 
struck for this Red Sea, when to do it tliey must go past 
several caravan tracks that would have taken them rio-ht out, 
and over dry land, where the Suez Canal now is. But this 
other route to the north, and past the other Reedy Sea, was 
the very shortest of all." 

Scott's face fell while Richard was talking. " You may be 
right, but I hope not," he replied. 

"Why?" asked Mr. Raymond. 

" Why, because, if that is the case, I lay awake half the 
night last night for nothing." 

"What made you do that?" said his friend, laughing. 

" Because I thought we were going over the place where 
the children of Israel were, and I wanted to enjoy it," said 
Scott. 

"And you enjoyed it just as much as if it were true, did 
you not ? " asked Richard. 

"I suppose so. But then" — 

" I wouldn't ' but then ' at all. You've had the fun. If 
you turn sceptical, you'll find you'll have to doubt almost every 
relic in the world. You'll have an opportunity to double the 
pleasure by going some time to the real sea, if the other one 
is real ; and between them you'll probably hit the right one. 
I've seen three skulls of St. Peter, in different places ; but it 
did not make them any less interesting. I called the old priest 
to account who was showing me the second one. Said I, 
' Look here, I have just seen one skull of this man in Rome.' 
— ' Ah ! ' said he scornfully, ' that was only when he was a 
boy.' " 

" I guess it's something like the sailors' yarns : believe 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 103 

every thing or nothing," said Scott, when the breakfast-bell 
sounded. 

Two days later they were just off Jedda, the seaport of the 
great city of Mecca, the very holy city of the Mohammedans. 
They could see nothing of the land ; but Scott fully appreciated 
the situation, for he was getting into that enviable condition 
of the professional tourist where even the proximity of any 
thing remarkable becomes a sensation. 

A few days later the steamer dropped anchor off the rocky 
coast of the barren — terribly barren — Arabian town of Aden, 
another great coaling-port. 

They took a little drive through the old town, with its his- 
toric tanks ; but the most amusing sight of the day, and one 
that kept Scott by the steamer's side as long as she was in port, 
after returning from the drive, was the crowd of naked little 
Arabs that swarmed in the water about the ship. 

They were thin, wiry little fellows, from ten to fifteen years 
old, and were in the water from early in the morning till three 
in the afternoon. Their hair was long ; and many of them had 
it bleached with dye, till at the ends it was yellow, while at the 
roots it was the natural black. They seemed to enjoy the 
water as much as ducks, and all the time they kept up a sort 
of song : — 

"Lemmedive, lemmedive, lemmedive, 
Ever'day, ever'day, ever'day, 
Tromershillin', tromershillin', tromershillin'," 

sang the urchins, though it sounded more like a series of spas- 
modic grunts than music. 

"What language is it that they speak?" asked Scott. 

" English," replied Richard. . 



I04 



OUR BOYS JN INDIA. 



" English ! " repeated Scott. " Why, what in the world are 
they saying ? ". 

"They want you to throw them a shilling, and let them 
dive for it ; but if I were you I would make it a threepenny 
bit, for they will dive just as quickly for that." 

Scott threw a silver threepence into the water. In an 
instant every little head had disappeared, and twice as many 
feet were above the water. Then they, too, disappeared, and 
the water was c[uiet where before there had been such a crowd 
of noisy heads. There was not a sign nor a sound of one of 
them, till suddenly the water seemed full of yellow heads just 
below the surface ; and then all the faces appeared, and the 
successful diver held up the piece of money with a grin that 
made his white teeth glisten ; and then putting it into his 
mouth, as he had no other pocket about him, he began again 
the song that the others were already singing, — 

" Lemmedive, lemmedive, lemmedive, 
Ever'day, ever'day, ever'day, 
Tromershillin', tromershillin', tromershillin'." 

When the silver-pieces came slowly, and it was growing an 
old story, they varied the performance by climbing up on to 
the steamer. Sometimes the sailors got after them, and they 
would run along the rail, and even up into the rigging ; and, 
when they were hard pressed, they would jump into the water, 
no matter how high up they were, sometimes disappearing on 
one side of the steamer to come up on the other. And then, 
looking round, they would expect some silver to be thrown to 
them as reward for making the passengers laugh ; and there 
was quite a company of these passengers now, for several had 
joined at Port Said, and several at Suez. 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 105 

" Are they not afraid of sharks ? " Scott asked of the captain, 
who was passing. 

" Not when they go in that way," rephed the captain. 
" They make that noise, and keep up that splashing, to frighten 
them. One of those boys alone would not come out here ; 
and you'll find that one will not remain very long alone, even 
on the other side of the steamer. There are sharks all about 
them, but the fish are afraid of a racket." 

When the steamer left the harbor, and the boys were turn- 
ing back to shore, they threw kisses to the passengers, crying, 
" Goobbye, Englishman ! Bergood, Englishman ! " 

" I don't believe there is an Englishman among us, except 
the sailors and officers," said Scott. 

" We are all Englishmen in their eyes," replied Mr. Ray- 
mond. " After we pass the Suez Canal, and until we reach 
China, ' Englishman ' is the name applied to every one with a 
white face." 

They were now well out upon the open sea again, with a 
perfectly straight line between them and Bombay. The sun 
rose over the prow, and set directly aft. Scott had taken 
Richard's advice, and kept his watch at the same time as when 
he left his home ; and this enabled him to tell very nearly what 
they were doing in Beverly, whenever he looked at his watch, 
without the necessity of calculating the difference of time, and 
also to tell of the progress the steamer was making, and her 
nearness to Bombay. While they were sailing eastward, the 
days were at least twenty minutes less than twenty-four hours 
long ; for every day they approached the rising sun, and " met 
it half way," as the captain said. 

While sailing down the Red Sea, they had made but little 
progress in time, for their course was nearly southward ; but 



io6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



then there were continual appearances of islands and coast- 
lines to break the monotony, and Scott found the study of 
navigation something very exciting. Often the captain had let, 
him lay out the day's course, and calculate the changes by the 
chart, while he stood by the table, looking on. They would 
take the observation, calculate the exact position, and then try 




IN THE CAPTAIN'S ROOM 



and set the steamer so that the next land to come in sight 
would be over some particular object on deck, forward of the 
bridge, to see how near right they could hit it. 

The names given to those points of land that fill the 
southern part of the Red Sea, making the navigation there 
very difficult, are as curious as the names of some of the 
Western villages in America. One of the last they passed 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. . 107 

before reaching Aden was a group of rocky islands called 
" The Twelve Apostles." 

Scott was standing near where Old Joe was scrubbing one 
of the steamer's boats, as they passed The Twelve Apostles ; 
and he counted the islands carefully, as every traveller does 
who passes them for the first time ; and, after counting them 
several times, he made the remark, that thousands of travellers 
have made before him, " Why, quartermaster, there are only 
eleven islands there ! How is it that they are called ' The 
Twelve Apostles' ? " And the old quartermaster made the reply 
that every sailor who ever sailed the sea has learned, as a 
standing joke on the land-lubbers, while he smiled with one 
corner of his mouth and with one eye, — 

"One of 'm — Judas, you know — went down." 

But now that they were out on the Indian Ocean, all 
this excitement was over, and the great pleasure of the day 
was in marking the increasing difference in time. When 
Scott's watch told him it was just noon in Beverly, the ship's 
time had reached eight o'clock and after in the evening. And 
when he got up, at six o'clock in the morning, he found that it 
was only a little after nine the night before at home. It was a 
curious sensation that it was very hard to accustom himself to. 

They were entirely out of sight of land now. To the north 
of them were the great pearl-fisheries of the Persian Gulf, 
and to the south there was nothing, — nothing but a few little 
islands between them and the frozen South Polar Sea. It 
had been almost impossible to wear any clothes at all in the 
Red Sea, where they had to have a double awning stretched 
over the deck and the bridge for protection against the sun ; 
and even then it was necessary to protect the head against 
the piercing rays with great cork or pith helmets. 



Io8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Mr. Raymond had procured one of these pith helmets 
for Scott at Port Said. He had one for himself in his 
trunk. They were almost like washbowls. The brim was very 
broad, sloping down over the shoulders, and was more than 
an inch thick, while the crown was three or four inches in 
thickness. But, being made of such light material, they were 
lighter, even, than an ordinary hat. The band that fitted about 
the head was lifted from the hat, to allow a perfect ventila- 
tion under the crown ; and the crown was so thick that the 
sun could not penetrate it. Scott found it the coolest and 
most comfortable hat he had ever worn. 

Another notion that Richard introduced, which Scott found 
decidedly agreeable, was a means of cooling drinking-water. 
Where the temperature was so high, it was dangerous to drink 
of the ice-water ; but without ice the ship's water was warm 
and insipid. At Port Said Richard bought them each a 
Hindu kuja, or chatti. Scott laughed, and asked what in 
the world that sort of a thing could be good for ; but he very 
soon found out. 

The ktija were of plain, clay-colored earthenware, like 
large wine-decanters, and were very rough and coarse and 
ugly. Richard put some of the milk-warm ship's water into 
them, and set them in the hot sun, on the deck. The clay 
was so coarse and porous, that soon each kuja was glistening 
and wet over the outside. Scott looked on, more amused 
than really interested ; for he was sure that the burning sun, 
falling full upon the little earthen jugs, must almost boil the 
water before long. 

In half an hour Richard came on deck with a glass, and, 
turning some water from the kuja, gave it to Scott, who 
looked at it for a moment, and could hardly believe it the 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 



109 



same as that which had been put in there. It was clear and 
sparkling-. He touched it to his lips, and uttered an excla- 
mation of surprise ; for it was as cool and fresh as spring- 
water. 

"How in the world can that be?" he asked. 

Richard smiled, as he replied, " It is only another of those 
great principles of philosophy that you are going to learn by 
and by. The water Is cool and wet : the air is hot and dry. 
The kuja is very porous, and allows the water to evaporate 
from everywhere at once. Of course, it cannot evaporate till 
it becomes as warm as, or warmer than, the air ; and this rapid 
evaporation carries off the heat till it falls considerably below 
its original temperature. That is a rough way of putting it, 
Scott, rough as the kuja Itself ; but you will know all about 
it in real scientific language by and by." 

"How long ago was it discovered?" asked Scott. 

" Hundreds of years," replied Richard. " Necessity Is the 
mother of Invention ; and, ao^es before our civilized world knew 
any thing about the principle of reducing heat by rapid evapo- 
ration, the Hindus were using these ktijas to cool their water, 
just as they use them to-day." 

"Is it any thing like the way that we manufacture Ice?" 
asked Scott. 

" The fundamental law Is the same ; and the art of manu- 
facturing ice, too, Is something that we borrowed from the 
Hindus. If we go to Calcutta I will show you, a little way 
from the city, where the natives are manufacturing ice, just 
as they have manufactured It for centuries." 

" Well, what in the world has civilization done ? " asked 
Scott almost indignantly. 

" You'll ask that question oftener, the more you see of the 



I lo . OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Hindus," replied Mr. Raymond. " Civilization has given us 
more elaborate and skilful and effective methods of accom- 
plishing the same ends : that is all. You will be surprised 
to find that almost every thing we have is to be found far 
back in the history of some of these old nations. The Hindus 
were playing chess and whist on their marble balconies long 
before any other nation knew any thing about the games. 
They invented the decimal system, that makes mathematics 
so easy, and that will soon be used in every thing, as the 
standard of all calculations, all over the world. They were 
the first, too, to use figures, instead of letters, as in the old 
Roman system of computing." 

"I thought it was the Arabs," said Scott. "They are 
always called Arabic characters." 

" So they are," replied Richard. " But that is only because 
the Arabs introduced the figures to us Westerners, when all 
there was of us was a few barbaric and half-barbaric tribes 
in Europe, and a few half-enlightened and very aristocratic 
nations in Syria and Egypt, and Italy and Greece. The Arabs 
of Bagdad are the fellows that have the credit of this ; for 
they were obliged to use the figures first, in their trading 
with merchants from over the Himalaya Mountains, who 
brought the new system up from India." 

" But we have steam and electricity, at least, to boast of 
as modern discoveries," replied Scott, intent upon standing 
up for his own people, as every true man and boy should. 

" That is what a great many of the wisest scholars of our 
day declare," returned Richard ; " and yet they are beginning 
to find out that they are mistaken even there. It is not 
certain about electricity, though there are several evidences 
already discovered that the ancients understood and made use 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. m 

of it. But it is very certain that the Egyptians used steam- 
power in several cases ; and, long before that, the Hindus 
lifted heavy weights, and did other wonderful things with 
steam, as you will see if we get well into India. But they 
never placed such importance as we do upon it, for there was 
not the occasion. Their requirements were very few. It took 
almost nothing to support a family ; and it followed that there 
were a plenty of men to do every thing that needed doing, 
and they were ready to do it for a very small sum. As you 
see, even now, in coaling the steamers, and in a host of such 
things that are done by steam in Europe and America, the 
work is really done so much more cheaply by men here in 
the East, that, even though we have the improvements, they 
are not introduced." 

. " Did they accomplish as much in all branches as in 
these ? " Scott asked. 

" The very first work that was ever written upon language 
was a Hindu grammar. It is still in existence, written in 
India seven hundred years before Christ. There are eight 
large volumes." 

" I'm glad I was not a schoolboy in India twenty- five hun- 
dred years ago, with those eight volumes to study before I 
could pass an examination in grammar," said Scott with a 
sigh. 

" But wait till we arrive," added Richard, as with a smile 
he noted Scott's perplexed face : " you will see hosts of evi- 
dences of what those old fellows knew." 

" But I thought they were heathen ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" That is surely what we call them," replied Richard : " and 
they are certainly far behind us to-day ; for they have been 
almost standing still for hundreds of years, and for the last 



112 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

two centuries they have been falling behind, till they are not 
half the people now that their ancestors were. They did their 
discovering while our ancestors were savages ; then we took 
it up, and have gone so far beyond them, that they seem 
almost like savages to us instead. But keep your eyes open, 
Scott, and do not be prejudiced against the Hindus by all 
the disagreeable things you hear. You may find, that, after 
all, these people are much better and wiser, even to-day, than 
the books and newspaper reports in England and America 
would have us believe." 

The sunsets over the Indian Ocean were inexpressibly 
beautiful. Scott thought he had never seen any thing so 
grand, as he stood in the companion-way abaft the saloon, 
from where he could obtain an unbroken view of the mag- 
nificent display, as the sinking sun set the clouds on fire, 
flashed red on the water till it seemed like a sea of blood, 
filled even the air with its purple glow, tinged all the sky, 
and dyed the rigging and deck of the steamer. Then sud- 
denly, as it dropped below the sea, a gray light put out the 
brilliant coloring, and the Tyrian cloud settled down over the 
opposite horizon, that forever hangs in the East, like a pillar, 
leading the pilgrim on to the mythic land. 

Another diversion which Scott found in the Indian Ocean 
was watching and studying the flying-fish. They had swarmed 
about the steamer ever since she had entered the Mediter- 
ranean Sea ; but he had never before had time to pay them 
much attention. 

They would rise out of the water in large flocks often, 
and sometimes fly for a great distance, keeping close to the 
water, at last dropping as though they had been shot. 

" What makes them fly so close to the water, and all the 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. 113 

while strike the top of the waves ? " Scott asked Old Joe one 
day. 

" To wet their wings, my lad," replied the quartermaster. 
"They've ne'er a feather, and can only flop out o' water while 
their wings is wet. When they dry, they stick, and then 
down the bird goes." 

" Well, what makes them fly at all ? Why don't they stay 
where they belong ? " 

" 'Tain't the nature o' the craft, no mor'n 'tis o' any thing 
else that kicks, to stay where't belongs, if it can get some- 
where else," replied the old quartermaster with a twinkle in 
his little eyes ; " but these little skiffs ha' a better excuse than 
most. They strike for the air when some big fish is over- 
hauling 'em that wants to take 'em in." 

"Are they good to eat?" asked Scott. 

" None better that swims the sea," said Joe decidedly. 

" I should like to catch one, at least to look at," said 
Scott. 

" Hano- a lantern abaft the bridw there, where the deck's 
low to the water, and you'll have a boatload o' 'em, that'll beat 
their bulkheads against the glass and go aground there, before 
morning." 

" They are curious things," said Scott, as a flock of large 
ones rose just before the steamer and flew away. 

"There's many a wonder that's real, that beats the biggest 
yarn I ever heard afore the mast," replied Joe : " did ye never 
hear o' John the Scotch bye, my lad, when he come off the 
sea, to his old mother ? " 

"Never," said Scott. "What was it?" 

" Why, ye see, he went to yarning the old gal on what he'd 
sighted in hot water. He told her how there were mountains 



114 ^^^ BOYS IN INDIA. 

all sugar, and how the rivers were running rum. And when 
he had pumped his bilge clean, and the yarn pulled taut, he 
slaked a little aft, and swung round afoul o' facts, and spoke 
a bit o' the flying-fish, and sich likes. ' Aha, thin, John ! ' 
says she, ' mountains o' sugar, an' rivers o' rum, I kin a weel 
ken how souch maun be ; but when ye coum talk o' the fish 
that fly, John, ye maun na till that to me.' And it's many a 
like craft that I've logged, my lad. Haul your line where ye 
will, the bigger the yarn, the better. They'll take all you'll 
give 'em slack. But come to realities, and many's the craft 
I've seen kick over 'em like a ship in a lumpy sea, and never 
believe a word." 

"There are a lot of wonders to be seen, and no mistake," 
said Scott enthusiastically. " There are many things that I have 
seen that I could hardly have believed if any one had told me. 
I believe I should like to spend my life upon the sea, just for 
the pleasure of it." 

Old Joe turned abruptly, and looked at Scott for an instant. 
Then he muttered, " Who'll go to sea for pleasure'll go to hell 
for pastime. That's what we say 'fore the mast ; but it's not 
the thing for an old tar to be saying to a lad from the first 
cabin. Don't stow it away in your locker, lad. 'Tis only 
Old Joe's way o' talking ; and because it's Old Joe's way 
don't begin to make it right for him no mor'n it does with 
others." 

This last Old Joe added with a jerk and a snap, like the 
firing of a potato popgun ; and it contained a wisdom that 
Scott by no means despised. But the quartermaster was 
ashamed of himself, and hurried to change the subject, 
remarking, — 

" It's a bit o' lovely sea that's on to-day." 



ARABIA AND HER WATER-BABIES. n^ 

There had been hardly any motion to the steamer since 
entering the Straits of Gib. It was Hke a river-steamer all 
the way, only that the machinery did not make so much 
jarring ; and now the sea lay like a huge mirror. 

"Is it always so smooth as this here?" asked Scott. 

"Always at this season," replied the quartermaster; "but 
you should 'a' been here two weeks or even a week ago, to 
'a' seen the old gal churning." 

" How do you know?" said Scott, on the lookout for yarns 
now. 

" It's the reg'lar monsoons, my lad. Here's the spot where 
a seabird can reckon to a certainty. One-half the year it's 
blow great guns, and steady as the binnacle from the sou'west. 
Then it's lay off a day or two, and begin again a purty little 
breeze like this for the nor'east monsoon. That's the way it 
should be : then a lad could go hang up ashore for the rough 
weather, and out again when it's calm." 

" I thought sailors always like rough weather. They are 
always singing about it." 

Old Joe shrugged his shoulders, smiled grimly, and walked 
away, singing as he went, — 

" Roar away the wild wind, aha ! aha ! 
Beat away the mad waves, oho ! oho ! 
My heart is happy, my arm is strong, aha ! oho ! 
I'll weather the gale, no matter how long, aha ! oho ! 
The mad waves beat, and the wild winds blow." 

And then came the chorus, but Joe was out of hearing. 

They were so near to Bombay now, that Scott could cal- 
culate within a few hours the time that they would arrive. 

It had taken them ten days to go from New York to Liver- 



Il6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

pool. They were two days in England, and it would be 
twenty-eight days from Liverpool to Bombay ; making just 
forty days for the whole trip. This could have been shortened 
by being but a day in England, and by going overland as they 
had hoped to. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



117 




CHAPTER X. 

PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 

BRANCH road was being completed on one of the 
great Indian railways. Among the engineers was a. 
half-caste. His face was dark and wild. He dressed 
in European style, but his clothes were ragged and 
vile. He smoked a pipe, instead of a hookah, or hubble- 
bubble, such as the natives used. His hut was like a Euro- 
pean hovel, more than a native house. He kept a huge 
English mastiff, and was very proud of the fact that he was 
not wholly a Hindu. He was foreman over five hundred 
coolies, who were slowly accomplishing the construction of the 
road. A fiercer man was not to be found ; and, as the Gov- 
ernment usually upheld its subordinates, the half-caste foreman 
was feared, above even their gods, by the poor cooly men and 
women who worked on his division of the road : hence he was 
all the more valuable as a foreman. So his employers thought. 
No one dared venture very near his hut, but left him to 
his own doings, undisturbed by prying eyes, whenever he 
chose to remain at home ; for the mastiff was even fiercer 
than his master. He lived with a half-caste sister, but little 
more agreeable than himself, and with his old Hindu mother. 
She was a witch now, and made a fortune for herself in 
telling the fortunes of others, while she made every one 
shudder who ever came within the charmed line of her shadow. 
Her eyes were sharp, very sharp ; and the eyebrows grew in 



Il8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

bristles over them. Her forehead receded, only touched by 
straggling locks of draggling white hair. Her nose was hooked 
and long ; and, as all her teeth were gone, her lips fell in. 
Her chin was hooked and long, and over her mouth it almost 
touched her nose. On her chin g^rew a coarse bristling beard, 
that stood out an inch and more, like the quills on a por- 
cupine. Many were the reports, among the poor workers on 
the road, that this foreman and his witch of a mother were 
very rich, — ■ that they had gold and silver buried in many a 
secret spot in India. But every one knew that in all India 
there was no one more ready to do any thing, no matter what 
it was, to make more money. It was for that reason that 
the old woman made herself so unutterably horrible to look 
at, and went about as a witch and a fortune-teller. When 
her two children were born, she was one of the most beau- 
tiful dancing-girls in the land ; but now the beauty was gone, 
and she turned the scales, and still made a good living, only 
it was out of her ugliness. 

For over a month there had been another member in the 
little family, — not a demon, like the rest, but a strange little 
being, as unlike them as sunshine and night, with a deli- 
cate little body, and a pale little face, and large blue eyes, 
and long brown and curling hair ; with a skin as fair as the 
cream lily, and clothes as ragged as those of the half-caste. 

It was little Paul Clayton ; though who Paul Clayton was, 
the little fellow with blue eyes and brown hair could not have 
told. He did not remember any such child as Paul Clayton. 
He did not remember such a place as Beverly. He had only 
a very strange feeling, that grew stronger every day, that all 
was not just right, that the people about him were not 
true, and that he was not just what they told him. He had 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. Hg 

been very ill : he knew that ; and every thing seemed so dif- 
ferent from the pictures he remembered, as though they were 
the wandering dreams that had then flitted through his head, 
that he could not tell now whether any thing that he seemed 
to remember was real, or only some part of those dreams. He 
even supposed he had forgotten how to talk. His thoughts 
seemed to come in real words ; but they were so confused, 
that he could not put th ~ n straight, and, when he spoke aloud, 
it was not in the same way that he thought. In reality, he 
was speaking in Hindustani, and thinking in English, and 
doing neither one perfectly. 

Many a time, as he sat silently on the floor of the hut, — 
the only real thing that he was at all sure of, — he would 
try to grasp something that was only half-tangible in his 
mind, and come at last to the conclusion that he was still in 
that strange dream from which they told him he had wak- 
ened, and he would try to shake himself and wake himself, 
to find out where he really was, and what he was. 

All the conversation that Paul heard was in Hindustani : 
it sounded strange to him, yet he generally understood what 
was said ; and it seemed as though he had always heard it, 
yet as though he had never heard it before in his life. 
Every thing was so strange, so unreal, that, in a sort of 
stupor, day after day went by, till, in despair, he at last gave 
up trying to understand the half-idea of something very happy 
and pleasant, and so different from any thing about him, 
that ever and again would seem to come like a shadow 
before him, and then vanish as he turned to look at it. 
He did not remember how Roderick Dennett had worked for 
over five weeks, on the steamer, to teach him to speak Hin- 
dustani. He did not remember Roderick Dennett at all, 



I20 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

or the steamer, except as a part of that dream that he had 
during his sickness, when he had seemed to be something 
beside the beggar-boy, who would have starved to death 
over and over again had it not been for the kindness of the 
old Hindu woman, and her son and daughter. 

That was what they told him ; and, as he had nothing else 
to believe, he tried to believe them. And he tried to be 
grateful, and not shudder and tremble every time they came 
near him. He longed for some one whom he could love, to 
whom he could fly for safety ; but he looked and thought 
and wondered in vain. There was no one, absolutely no 
one, to whom he could turn. It was only one of the fancies 
of his dream that seemed to speak to him of some one. 
Every time he slept he dreamed it over again, and every 
time he woke he became more sure that it was only a dream ; 
but there was just one thing that drew the past back to a 
reality, in spite of every thing : it was his long brown hair. 
It was never combed now, and lay in a tangled mat on his 
head ; but, when a stray curl fell over his forehead and eyes, 
he seemed to see that something more clearly. He seemed 
to feel a loviner hand — a hand as white as his own — caress- 
ing the little curl ; and over and over again he would pull a 
lock down over his forehead, and laugh with himself as he 
looked at it, and felt so happy when his little heart was 
thrilled by the touch of that vanished hand. 

The old witch caught him in this way more than once ; 
and it was against her liking to see any one laughing. 
Being herself deprived of all that she had once considered 
happiness, she was bent on depriving every one else in the 
same way, and determined to make that hair so short that 
the boy could not see it. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 12 1 

She called him outdoors, and seated herself on a rough 
stool. This in itself was an awkward thingf for her to do, for, 
like all Hindu women, she was accustomed to sit on the 
floor ; but she wanted to reach the boy's head, and be in a 
position to carry her point, in case of struggle. 

No sooner was she well seated, with little Paul before 
her, than she made a dive for his head, and, grasping a 
handful of his hair roughly with her left hand, flourished a 
long pair of shears in the other, and, with a fiendish grin, 
said, — 

" Now, then ! we'll have this off before you have a chance 
to laugh yourself dead through it." 

With a shriek of fear, Paul seized the little lock that fell 
over his eyes, and passionately clung to it with trembling 
hands. 

The old hag only struck him over the knuckles, and, with 
a hollow laugh, began her work. Zip, zip, zip ! went those 
iron shears, pulling his hair at every cut, and each time 
wringing a cry from his very heart. And all the time the 
little hands were clasped more closely over that sacred lock. 
The back hair was almost gone, and in a moment more there 
would have been a struggle over the rest, when round the 
corner came the half-caste foreman, his pipe in his mouth, 
and his pants rolled up to his thighs. 

Paul had had very little to do with him, and had little 
hope of mercy from him ; still he was determined that that 
lock of hair, through which he could see the picture that 
seemed so real, of a happiness that now he could not even 
fully comprehend, should never be torn from him if any thing 
could prevent it. 

A defiant fire flashed from his blue eyes as he looked up 



122 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



at the half-caste foreman, but they fell again to the ground ; 
and poor little Paul began to tremble, for a fiercer face few 
have ever seen or imagined. The eyes started from their 

sockets, the teeth 

1.1 „, ,,il,|l|llllliilT.,,., 

shone fiendishly 
white through the 
black lips and 
beard. 

" What are you 
at, withered hag ? " 
he cried furiously. 

" At my trade. 
The hair's worth a 
pound in the mar- 
ket," she replied, 
though she loosed 
her rude grasp ; 
and Paul gave a 
sigh of relief, but 
did not drop the 
sacred little lock. 

" Haven't I 
sworn to the hairs 
of his head ? " he 
asked. 

" They'll grow 

again fast enough," 

And ao-ain she laid her hand on 




■■-'-ElI^K Jc 



PAUL AND THE HAG 



replied the old woman. . ...^ .v^, 

Paul's hair, when her son darted forward. 

" Drop it ! " he exclaimed ; and instantly the withered hand 
fell again. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 123 

" You're in a good mood to-day," she returned with a 
sneer. " I'll give my hairy chin but you've lost the worth 
of your pipe full of tobacco at some game or other." 

" That I have," he replied. "There are men on the track of 
the kid there. They are already in Bombay. They have an eye, 
along the new line, for Dennett's old engineering friends." 

" Ugh ! " exclaimed the old woman, springing to her feet, 
and brushing the hair she was to sell for a pound in the 
market on to the earth, where she fiercely trod on it with her 
foot. " May their mouths be filled with dirt ! " she cried. 
" May they be defiled, and the mothers that bore them ! 
May the worms eat them, and the beggars spit upon their 
beards ! " 

" Che, che ! " said the foreman fiercely. " Your curses 
are all very well to frighten these nunnies about here ; but 
don't think that your tongue will drive off the English offi- 
cers, if they come looking for the kid." 

" Come here ? " the old woman howled. " The wind will 
be in their bones before they see the second wall. May their 
eyes blister, and their tongues rot in their mouths ! Never, 
never ! Curse the kid ! Never shall they come into this 
palace of " — 

" Che, che ! Keep your vile tongue to the beggars about 
you. I've a better plan. If I go down, Dennett goes with 
me," muttered the foreman. " He'll know it before dark to- 
night. And, if he kicks and runs his luck, I'll show myself, 
and offer to redeem the boy for a good ransom." 

The old woman began to chuckle way down in her throat ; 
and Paul looked up suddenly, thinking she must be ill. 
She was only laughing. She turned upon him as though she 
had forgotten him. 



124 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Did you take in what that beast of a brute said to 
me ? " she asked fiercely. 

Paul started and trembled. He had not exactly taken in 
what had been said, though he had comprehended that in 
some way it referred to him, and it seemed to open his eyes 
a little to what was going on ; though how, or what it really 
was that he began to comprehend, he could not tell. He 
had no idea of telling the old hag a lie, for instinctively 
a lie would have been impossible to him ; but in utter fear 
and misery he looked at her with a bewildered stare, and 
shook his head. 

" Guzzle the kid with your fury, and scare him out o' his 
wits, as though 'twould bring the truth out o' him ! " shouted 
the half-caste. " But no fear : he's idiotic as an ape. Den- 
nett took his senses away for everlasting, I'm thinking, in 
that long pull he gave him with opium, and the like." 

"How is it we're to get rid of him for the time?" asked 
the old woman. 

" Dhondaram will take him," replied the foreman, grinning. 
" I gave him a hundred rupees this morning, and promised 
him as much more when the kid was well placed. I've sent 
to Dennett for fifty, for doing the same thing." 

"You're well for a turn, well for a turn," muttered the 
old woman. 

" A cursed compliment. I came by it honestly," he replied, 
lighting his pipe again. " But do you put on the kid's good 
clothes, — not the dashedest ones in the box, but common 
good, — and make a bundle of some more. Don't you go to 
skimming the chest, and putting the cream under your own 
straw pile, — for, mind you, Dennett's sharper'n the sharpest, 
and he'd know, — but give the bundle and the kid to sister, 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 1 25 

when she goes to show her pretty face in the bazaar to-night. 
On the Boomal corner, by the well, and at the old Trimmal's 
fruit-booth, she'll see Dhondaram in holy contemplation. Let 
her send the kid to get some fruit, leave the bundle at 
Dhondaram's feet, and scatter herself so fine through that 
bazaar that there'll be no finding her." 

"But suppose the young'n won't leave her," muttered the 
old woman as she turned toward the hut. 

The half-caste gave a hoarse laugh, and shouted, " Never 
you fear ! If he's got sconce enough to draw breath when 
he can't help it, he'll know better than to stick to you or 
yours any longer'n he's obliged to." 

The old woman went into the house. The half-caste sat 
down upon the stool. He always sat upon a stool ; for he 
would not have any one think he was a Hindu, and could 
sit upon the ground. He took the little trembling, half- 
stupefied boy on his knee, and almost tenderly he asked, — 

"Well, my lad, would you like to go away?" 

Paul nodded. He had comprehended much more than 
they thought, and, as the foreman had said, was not anxious 
to remain longer where he was. Any thing would be better 
than that ; and yet he did not fully understand what it was 
to go away. 

The rough man stroked his head for a moment ; then, with 
a sigh, he set him down, and went into the hut, from which 
the old woman soon issued, ready to dress the boy as her 
son had directed. 

It was a strange sensation that came over Paul as he put 
on the pretty and clean suit of boy's clothes. It was like 
the breaking out of the sunshine on an April eveniYig, when, 
just before it sets, the sun pierces the rich auburn clouds that 



126 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

have been pouring down rain all day long. You may be in 
the house where you cannot see the sunshine ; yet you know 
instinctively that the storm has broken, and that the cheerful 
light is again brightening every thing, and you feel happier 
for it. You cannot help it. Paul could not tell what made 
him happy. He could not tell why the pretty clothes were 
so much more real to him than the rags had been. He 
could not tell any thing, but that he was happier. He knew 
he was happier ; but he dared not laugh, lest the old woman 
should take them away again. He thought of the name 
" Dhondaram." It was some one who was to take care of 
him ; and instinctively he associated the new clothes and the 
delightful memories that they seemed to awaken, and the 
happiness in his heart, all with that name, and the man who 
bore it ; and already he began to long for the time to come 
when he was to start for the bazaar with the foreman's sister. 
Then he wondered what the bazaar was. He had never been 
a dozen rods from that hut in his life, so far as he knew. 
But he did not care what it all looked like, if Dhondaram 
were only there. 

The moon was already shining when the sun set ; and he 
was soon taken by the young woman, and led away. 

Every thing was very new to Paul in the busy streets 
that they soon reached, and the old ways down which they 
wandered ; and yet he seemed to half-remember having seen 
it all before. He wondered if he were still dreaming. 

The men did not wear hats and clothes, like the foreman ; 
but many of them were naked to the waist, at least, and had 
only a light strip of cloth twisted about their legs as low down 
as the knees. Some had loose cloaks hanging over their 
shoulders, bound round the waist by a girdle, and falling in 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



127 



a sort of skirt over the legs to the knees. They all wore 
cloth twisted in different shapes about their heads, instead 
of hats. 

The women were dressed in all sorts of fashions : some 
had light shawls all over them, with only one eye showing 
between the folds ; and some were almost naked. Many of 
them had silver rings on their ankles, and many more on 
their arms. Some had rings in their noses, and large rings 
in their ears ; and they all had silver rings all over their 
fingers and thumbs and toes, and colored glass rings on 
their arms. 

Long before Paul began to grow tired, they had reached 
a corner by a well, and a half-naked native sitting behind 
some baskets filled with fruit. Right at the corner a very tall 
man was standing, all absorbed in thought. The young woman 
who was leading Paul stopped for an instant, and, without 
looking at the man, laid the bundle down at his feet, and 
went on a little way. Instinctively Paul seemed to know 
what it meant. He could not explain it, for the picture, more 
than the words, had been left upon his mind ; but he was 
happier than he ever remembered having been before, and 
was not at all surprised when the woman told him to go to 
the fruit-vender, and ask him the price of some melons beside 
him. 

Paul hesitated an instant at the last moment. It was 
breaking away from all that he knew any thing about in the 
world. He understood perfectly that he was not coming 
back again, and that he was to go away with the solemn 
man standing at the corner. He turned, and looked at him. 
There was something almost gentle in his face. It was very 
different, at least, from the faces that he already knew ; and 



128 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



then the new clothes, and all the happiness ! Little Paul left 
the woman, as she had bidden him ; but, instead of going 
and asking the price of the melons, he went straight to the 




DHONDARAM. 



side of the tall Hindu, and, extending his little white hand, 

he said, in broken Hindustani, — 

" Here I am, Dhondaram, to go away with you." 

The muni started, frowned for an instant, and looked down 

at the tiny figure. But Paul had not been mistaken : little 

hearts rarely are in this world. No sooner did the muni's 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 1 29 

black eyes rest on the large blue ones turned up to him, 
and on the gold-brown hair, and the pale cheeks, and little 
extended hand, than the frown melted, and all that gentle- 
ness that Paul had detected came back again. 

Dhondaram's plans for taking the boy were thoroughly 
turned upside down by Paul's greeting. It was that that had 
caused the frown ; but, making the best of matters as they 
were, he took the little hand in his, and, picking up the 
bundle, said, — 

" Very well. We will go." And they started off together. 

For a while Dhondaram seemed to take no more notice 
of Paul. He almost thought he had forgotten him, and clung 
a, little closer to his hand. The motion attracted the muni's 
attention ; and, looking down, he said almost gently, — 

" You are tired. I will carry you." 

Paul did not understand precisely what he meant ; but 
when the strong arm was about him, and he was lifted to 
the broad shoulder, he felt happier and safer, and put one 
arm around the muni's neck, — an action that pleased him 
much more than the gold he received from the half-caste. 

They turned, very soon, out of the lighted street and into 
darker alleys ; and Paul clung the closer to Dhondaram. He 
walked on now with rapid strides, and very soon approached 
a low doorway, where three women, dressed almost like men, 
were sitting and talking. They wore jewels ; but they were 
evidently working-women, for two of them had baskets, in 
which they had been carrying something. 

" Fie on you, daughters of Kali ! to be out here hatching 
mischief at this hour. Go to your homes, and let Gunga 
come in and get me some supper," said Dhondaram. 

" Gunga can go, if she will, at the beck of a monster like 



I^o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

you, who knows neither Kah nor Siva, and worships but 
Krishna," retorted one of the women; "but, as for us, we 
will neither leave this spot for you, nor a host just like you." 

But Gunga rose ; and, turning to the others with a laugh, 
she said, — 

" Good-night till the morning, we'll meet in the temple ; " 
and followed Dhondaram. 

" Gunga knows who turns her gki to gold," muttered 
one of the women so loud that all could hear ; but Gunga 
made no reply, and soon had conducted the muni to a little 
room that she occupied, with screens here and there, dividing 
the cooking and sleeping apartments. 

" What have you on your back ? " asked Gunga, as she 
lighted a little wick, floating in oil in a cocoanut-shell, and 
turned to prepare some supper. 

" A feringhi," replied Dhondaram. 

" A feringhi ! " she exclaimed, and turned suddenly to 
look at little Paul, who now rested on the muni's knee, as 
he sat on the floor. But a sweet smile broke over Gunga's 
face as she looked down into the tired blue eyes. She gently 
touched the soft cheek ; and then, with a quizzical smile at 
Dhondaram, she said, "There must be a gold lining here, or 
the holy Dhondaram would be defiled." 

" It is only a child," muttered Dhondaram, " and none 
of your business at the best. Get us some supper, and give 
us a bed for the night. Did ever you hear of a Feringhi 
Dennett? Roderick Dennett? Well, if ever you do, keep 
your eye on him, Gunga, and send me word, and till then 
keep your peace." 

"That I will, as I have often done for you before," said 
Gunga merrily ; and she began to sing a temple-song as she 




DAUGHTERS OF KALI. 



132 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



moved about behind one of the screens : for she was a sort 
of priestess in a Hindu temple, — a murh girl, — whose duty 
it was to dance and sing during a part of the service, and 
in her basket she had carried flowers to throw about the 
altar. 

The food which Gunga set before them was of the very 
simplest kind, — only a dry meal-cake and cups of milk ; 
but Paul was hungry, and thought it far better than any thing 
he had ever before tasted. On the whole, he was well sat- 
isfied with the change, and would not have gone back again 
for any thing. 

After supper Gunga threw a coarse mat on the floor ; and 
turning half toward Paul, whose eyes were very heavy, she 



said, — 



"The little feringhi can have a mat yonder, between me 
and my little sister Prita, who is already sound asleep, if he 
would like it. It is a softer, better place than this." 

Paul looked at Dhondaram, who bowed his head in 
assent ; then he extended his arms to Gunga, who stood ready 
to take him upon her shoulder, as though he were light as a 
feather, though she herself seemed to him but a little girl. 
She kissed his cheek softly, as she carried him behind another 
screen, and there laid him carefully upon a rug on the floor, 
giving him her arm for a pillow, where he fell asleep before 
he had hardly time to realize how happy and comfortable he 
was. 

Before daylight he was awakened by the little sister Prita, 
who was kneeling beside him, kissing his hand. 

"You are a very pretty little Ingrij," she said. "Can you 
understand what I say ? " 

Paul rubbed his eyes, and answered, " Yes." 



134 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"Where did you learn to talk like me?" asked the girl. 

Paul wondered where, and rubbed his eyes again ; for it 
suddenly seemed to him that he had not always talked like 
that. 

" You must get up, and let me wash you, and comb your 
hair ; for you must eat breakfast soon, and go away," she 
added sadly. 

" I don't want to go away," sobbed Paul. But he got up ; 
and the little g-irl beran to bathe him as he had never been 
bathed before, so far as he could remember. She gathered" 
up all the mats, and left only the smooth stone floor. Then 
she brought a jug of water, somewhat like a kuja, only 
larger, and, after taking off his clothes, began turning it over 
him, a little at a time, and rubbing him gently with her soft 
hand. Then she wiped him, rubbed his body with something 
that smelled so nice he thought he would like to drink it, 
and then dressed him, and carefully combed his hair. 

" I'm very sure I don't want to have you go," she said ; 
" but we must do as Dhondaram says, and perhaps he will 
bring you back again. If I w^ere only a little older, so that 
I could go to the temple too, it would be better. But 
Dhondaram is very kind. He will never hurt you. Were 
you born in England? How long have you been in India?" 

Little Prita chatted on, because Paul did not seem in- 
clined to answer ; and she forgot one question as soon as 
she had put it, and began another. But Paul did not forget 
them. They set him thinking, and thinking so hard that he 
had no time to a.nswer. It had never occurred to him that 
he must have been born somewhere ; and the more he won- 
dered, the more confused he became. But the thinkine was 

t_> 

sure to amount to somethino- in time. 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 135 

They had rice and milk for breakfast ; and, comforted by 
Dhondaram's promise that he should surely come back again, 
Paul once more mounted the broad shoulder, and left the little 
room and the low arched doorway, and, after a short walk, 
came out upon a broad river. 

There were very few people to be seen till they came out 
upon the river-bank ; for it was only the gray dusk before 
dawning, and the sky in the . east was just turning red for 
the sunrise. Dhondaram wanted to get away without at- 
tracting attention, for he realized that he had undertaken a 
very difficult task. He could get the best of any Hindu 
or Mussulman that lived. He had often tried it, and always 
succeeded. The half-caste foreman had selected him to help 
him out of his difficulty, as the man of all men who was 
able to do it. But to carry his point against the English 
police, when to do it he had got to keep a little white boy 
out of their hands, was quite another undertaking. It had 
taken more than a hundred rupees from the foreman to induce 
Dhondaram to attempt it. The foreman had not dared to tell 
his mother it had cost him over a thousand rupees to get 
out of the fraud into which Roderick Dennett had drawn him. 
And he himself was ignorant of the fact that it was not at 
all his gift of a thousand rupees, and promise of as much 
more, but something entirely outside of that, that had induced 
the Hindu muni, Dhondaram, to undertake the difficult en- 
gagement. 

There was a score of boatmen on the river-bank when 
they reached it. Some were cooking their breakfast, some 
eating it. All were preparing for a fresh start, for boatmen 
will not sail at night in India unless it is absolutely necessary. 
There are several reasons for it. The Hindu rivers are 



136 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



very hard to navigate, and the Hindus very superstitious. 
Beside this, they are never in a hurry. If time and tide 
will not wait for them, they are satisfied to let time and tide go 
on without them. 

Paul was a little frightened at the sight of the rugged, 
almost naked boatmen, with their smoothly shaven heads, 
where only a little tuft of hair was left on the very top. 
That tuft was never cut at all, but twisted up in a little knot. 
They were singing and shouting and praying and eating and 
cooking in a terrible confusion ; but when Paul looked down 
at the man upon whose shoulder he sat, to find him taller 
and stronger than any of them, and when he saw how those 
rough boatmen knelt and touched their foreheads to the 
ground as he and the muni passed them, he lost his fear, 
and only realized a still greater confidence in Dhondaram. 

" What is this water ? " Paul asked, as Dhondaram was 
preparing to take him on to a boat that seemed to be ready 
for them. 

" It is the sacred Ganges," replied the muni solemnly, set- 
ting Paul down on the bank for a moment, and making an 
humble obeisance to the river. " It flows directly out of the 
mouth of the incomprehensible Bramha," he added ; and Paul 
drew a long breath, and tried to understand it. 

The sun was just rising as they passed the city proper, 
at the outskirts of which they had embarked. The boat in 
which they sailed was a curious contrivance. Paul was sure 
he had never seen a boat before ; yet as they pushed off 
from shore, and began to rise and fall on the little waves, 
there was something so natural, that again and again he 
looked out of the little window and over the dancing ripples, 
as though he could almost see something there, almost hear 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. 



"^Zl 



some one speak to him, almost discover something that he 
had begun very seriously to long to know. 

There was one mast to their boat, and a huge triangular 
sail attached to it. There was a little house with curious 
doors and windows in the stern ; and there they were destined 
to eat and sleep for 
many days, while 
slowly making their 
way up the Gan- 
ges and one of its 
branches, stopping 
every night by the 
bank till the morn- 
ing. 

As they passed 
along the border 
of the city, the 
boats became very 
numerous in the 
river ; and Dhon- 
daram drew the 
blinds, or bamboo 
awnings, before the 
window where Paul 

sat. It did not a curious, contrivance. 

prevent his looking out, however. There were beautiful 
towers rising up almost from the water's edge. But, when 
they had passed the city, they seemed once more to sink 
into the mists, that there had not fully risen from the river. 
Once more Dhondaram opened the bamboo blinds ; and, 
leaning out of the window, Paul watched the water splash- 




iss 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ing ag-ainst the boat, till suddenly his attention was drawn 
to strange figures along the bank, just discernible in the 
mists, moving slowly up and down, or lying still in hideous 
piles. 




CROCODILES. 



" What are they ? " he asked, eagerly pointing toward the 
shore. 

"Crocodiles," muttered Dhondaram ; and, with a peculiar 
smile, he added, " They are very sacred animals. We make 
sacrifices to them ; and sometimes little children are thrown 
into the water, for those crocodiles to eat them up." 



PAUL AMONG THE HINDUS. too 

Paul started, turned pale, trembled a little, and looked 
up into Dhondaram's face. The muni looked quietly into 
the blue eyes for an instant ; then, with scarcely a perceptible 
change of countenance, he lifted his hand, and stroked the 
golden-brown hair. Paul nestled closer to him. He was not 
afraid of being thrown to the crocodiles. Oh, no ! — not so 
long- as Dhondaram was near. 



I40 • OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 




CHAPTER XI. 

WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER, AND A HINDU FEAST. 

P the sacred Ganges and one of its great tributaries 
they sailed ; and it seemed to Paul that they must 
be going a long way off from everywhere, especially 
from the city where the little Gunga and her tiny 
sister Prita lived. He did not know the name of it : but 
he grew brighter and clearer in his mind each day, and 
comprehended more of what he saw ; and, to his own sur- 
prise, he seemed to understand a great many new things 
without asking. He had learned, too, the way to the stern 
heart of the muni, and had not the least fear of Dhondaram. 
When he awoke in the morning, and found him out on the 
river-bank, engaged in a sort of fierce devotion, his eyes 
flashing, his body writhing about in terrible contortions, while 
he placed fire in his open palms, and cut his flesh with little 
knives, Paul would go right up to him, and, putting his arms 
fearlessly about his neck, would kiss him, and cry, " Stop, 
stop ! don't do that ! " while the boatmen, who would as soon 
have had a hand cut off as to have disturbed him, would 
look on in horror, till they found that the frown disappeared, 
instead of gathering deeper on the dark brow of Dhon- 
daram, and that, taking the child in his arms, he would go 
back to the boat, to wait till some other time to finish his 
terrible devotions. 

The water of the river was very yellow with mud as they 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



141 



went up, and every day they passed bodies of dead animals 
that were floating down ; yet at every httle village that they 
passed, and at every encampment, there were many people 
bathing in the water, especially at sunrise in the morning. 
And while they bathed they prayed, and threw the water over 




'THEY ARE COMING TO BATHE THE IDOL.' 



their faces. " They think it sacred. They believe they are 
washing their sins away," said Dhondaram. 

One morning, just after they had started for the day, they 
heard a loud noise of singing and shouting on the banks, 
beyond a little jungle ahead of them. Dhondaram drew 
the awnings over the windows, and sat on the floor by the 
side of Paul. Soon they passed the cause of the noise. In 



142 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



the lead was a band of girls, whirling about each other, sing- 
ing and dancing, with soft, white cloth wound gracefully about 
them, and garlands of flowers upon their necks and round 
their waists. Behind them came Bramhan priests, shouting, 
and waving heavy wands in the air, and bearing an image 
on a litter. 

"What is the matter, Dhondaram ? " asked Paul, alarmed 
more at the serious face of his protector than at any danger 
he could conceive of from the happy throng upon the bank. 

" They are bringing the god of the temple down, to bathe 
it in the Ganges. If the boatmen say I am a muni, they will 
stop us, and I shall have to help them. But we must not 
stop : we cannot. If I stop, I shall tell the boatmen to go 
on with you." 

Paul caught Dhondaram's hand, and shook his head. The 
muni smiled, and continued, — 

" You shall not fear, for it will only be for an hour. I 
shall hurry up the river, and meet you. But they will not 
stop us," he added, as the boat was pulled past the point 
where the murlis, or dancing-girls, were approaching the 
river, and no one paid it any attention. 

They made slow progress up the river, especially when 
the wind was against them, so that they could not use the 
sail, or the current ran fast. Then the boatmen were 
obliged to take the oars, which they did not fancy, and some- 
times even to take a long rope, and go on shore with it, 
walking along the bank, and pulling the boat after them, which 
they disliked still more. And the worst of all was when the 
banks were so covered with jungle, or forest-growth, to the 
very water's edge, that the only way they could do was to 
start on in a little boat with the rope, and, fastening it to a 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1 43 

tree as far ahead as was possible, draw the large boat up to 
it, and then go on again. 

When they came to anchor at night, Paul would run and 
play upon the sand, while the boatmen built a fire, and Dhon- 
daram, with his own hands, prepared the supper. Like the 
breakfast, it consisted of a simple preparation of rice, made 
hot with something like mustard, that they called curry, pre- 
pared from several kinds of green leaves and spices mashed, 
and ground to a soft pulp between two stones. With this 
they had fruit, — -bananas, plantain, dates, tamarinds, pome- 
granates, and, best of all, sweet limes as large as oranges, 
of which Paul was very fond. He made an exclamation of 
delight the first time that he tasted them, and from that day 
there was always a bamboo tray of sweet limes lying on the 
floor of the little cabin. 

When there was a jungle near their stopping-place, Dhon- 
daram always warned Paul not to go near it ; and even Paul 
noticed, that, wherever he went, and no matter what the tall, 
grim muni was doing, he never looked back without finding 
his two piercing black eyes fixed upon him. The old witch 
used to watch him in that way, and it made him tremble ; but 
he only felt the safer now, to know that he was not for a 
moment out of the sight of his friend. Richard Raymond 
would have shuddered had he known, Scott would have 
trembled could he have been told, that little Paul was laugh- 
ing in the face of the terrible Dhondaram. 

Once when he had wandered too near to a jungle, Dhon- 
daram hurried toward him, and, catching him in his arms, went 
back to the boat with him. 

"There are ugly tigers in there," he muttered. "You do 
not want to meet one of them." 



144 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"Why not?" asked Paul. 

"They would kill you," replied the muni. 

"What would that matter?" asked Paul, very little under- 
standing what it was to be killed, or what he was saying, and 
yet half realizing after all. 

The muni looked at him silently for a moment. Then, 
brushing a tear from his eyes, he said huskily, " Your little 
lips have kissed Dhondaram. You neither hate nor fear 
him." 

" No, indeed, I am not afraid of you ! " exclaimed Paul, 
throwing his arms around the muni's neck, and kissing him 
again. " And I shall never be killed while you take care of 
me." 

Dhondaram looked about him hurriedly, to be sure that 
none of the boatmen saw. 

One night they had eaten their supper, and were at 
anchor a little way out in the stream ; for the current was 
slow, and the jungles were close upon the bank. The boat- 
men had usually built fires at night, to keep the wild beasts 
from coming to the water near where they were anchored ; 
but there were villages within sight of the boat to-night, 
and Dhondaram did not want to attract the attention of the 
villagers, who would be sure to come down and make them 
a call. So they only pushed out farther than usual ; and the 
sun went down, and the moon rose, and the boatmen lay 
stretched over the deck, sound asleep. Paul had been asleep, 
but was wakened by Dhondaram, who was praying, and 
fiercely beating himself. Getting up from his mat, Paul went 
to the muni, but had hardly reached his side, when from the 
distant bank there sounded a shrieking whistle. Dhondaram 
started to his feet. He listened intently for a moment. There 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



H5 



was a sharp cracking and swaying of the branches on the 
other side of the river, that there was not a quarter of a 
mile wide. Some large body was forcing its way through at 
no easy pace. Suddenly the muni disappeared in the cabin, 




THE MAD ELEPHANT. 



but re-appeared in a moment, carrying a bundle. Paul had 
not time to ask what it was ; for his eyes were fixed on a 
huge, dingy form that loomed up on the opposite bank. 

" It is only an elephant," said Paul, who had seen them 
carrying burdens along the river-bank. 



146 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" A mad elephant," muttered Dhondaram, watching him 
intently. 

"What makes him mad?" asked Paul. 

" I don't know. But he is alone, and a wild elephant 
never goes alone unless he's mad. Ha ! " he exclaimed, as 
the huge elephant seemed to have noticed them, and at once 
dashed into the water, and began to swim rapidly toward the 
boat. 

" Not yet, not yet," muttered Dhondaram, catching Paul 
in his arms, and setting him on his shoulder, while he bal- 
anced the bundle on his head. "It is not written in Dhon- 
daram's forehead that he die at the will of a wild elephant, or 
a tame one either." And with his burden he slipped silently 
over the edge of the boat, away from the approaching animal. 
Fortunately, being able to wade, he moved rapidly toward the 
shore. When the bank was almost gained, and the water not 
more than waist deep, a sudden splash sounded a little way 
up the river ; and Paul, whose eyes had been fixed on the 
approaching elephant, turned with a cry of fear to see the 
great glistening jaws of a crocodile opened wide, less than 
ten feet away. But Dhondaram was strong and supple. 
His lithe body sank into the water to the shoulder. Then 
he sprang forward. The lumbering crocodile swung about, 
and his great jaws came together with a resounding click 
that would have made a stronger heart than little Paul's stand 
still. The maddened creature turned about, and opened the 
horrible jaws again ; but Dhondaram had gained on him. 
In a moment more he was bounding along the bank, now 
with a foot in the water where the trees crowded him, 
now flying like the wind on the sand. But the signal had 
been given ; and all up and down the river, with many a 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1 47 

grunt and snort, they heard the sleeping crocodiles awaking, 
and swinging their heads back, to open the terrible mouths 
ready to close like a vice on any thing that might fall into 
them. But holding Paul firmly on his shoulder, and the 
bundle on his head, without a sound the Hindu bounded 
on, seeming hardly to touch the earth, resting his foot for an 
instant against the very nose of a crocodile, to be ten feet 
away before the animal could close his glistening rows of 
savage teeth. 

Then there was a terrible splashing and crashing behind 
them ; and, looking back over the moonlit water, Paul could 
see the boat flying into a thousand pieces under the wrath of 
the mad elephant, and hear the cries and groans of the boat- 
men, suddenly aroused from sleep to find themselves doomed 
to death. And the little hands clasped the muni's neck 
more closely, as Paul realized the terror from which he had 
saved him. 

They were well away from the river, and in a broad, open 
plain, before the muni paused, and, looking cautiously about 
him to assure himself that there was no other danger at hand, 
laid his burden tenderly down, and asked, — 

"Has the little feringhi had a pleasant ride?" 

"The poor boat Wallahs! They are all dead," replied 
Paul, thinking of the boatmen. 

" It was written in their foreheads," said Dhondaram in- 
differently, "but not in mine." 

" But if you had staid there you would have been dead 
too," said Paul, with a logic so simple, that the greatest theo- 
logians are only just finding out how full of force it is. 

" But I did not stay," replied the muni. And, after waiting 
a moment to gather strength and breath, he untied the package. 



148 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



which Paul now saw contained his bundle of clothes and a 
bamboo sack of sweet limes. Giving the boy two of the sweet 
limes, he replaced the bundle on his head ; and, taking Paul 
aeain on his shoulder, he said, — 

" You can eat those to keep you awake when you are 
sleepy. We have a long way to go. We should have reached 




THE LONG ROAD. 



the end of our journey to-morrow night. Now we must reach 
it to-morrow morning instead, for there are two villages that 
we must go past before daylight." 

So they started on ; and all night long the muni kept at a 
steady, rapid pace, never flinching or swerving from the track 
that he seemed to be as sure of as though it were his home. 
Before the sun had risen, they passed the last of the villages 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



149 



that Dhondaram wanted to avoid. But the people were 
already engaged at the morning worship, and were lying on 
their faces, falling on their knees, beating their foreheads 
to the ground, and crying and howling before a rude little 
temple, where Paul could just discern a hideous image, that 




THE GODDESS KALI. 



reminded him so much of the old witch, that instinctively he 
tried to shrink away from it. 

"What is it?" he asked timidly. 

"The goddess Kali, the wife of the great Siva, — the 
powerful Mother of Destruction. She kills every thing." 

" How do they dare to be so near, and pray to her ? " asked 
Paul again. 

" They are praying to her to keep away from them," replied 



I50 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



the muni, smiling in a peculiar way, as he pressed a little 
nearer to the jungle to escape observation. " Her hair touches 
the ground behind her. She has three red eyes. Her lips 
and tongue are dripping with blood. She has dead bodies for 
rings in her ears. Once she had only two arms ; but, when her 
husband was in trouble, she sacrificed an arm to save him, and 
now she has four. She is standing on the body of a god, and 
has the head of a mortal in her hand. Her girdle is made of 
the hands she has cut off from the arms of her enemies, and 
her necklace is skulls." 

" I would not pray to her," said Paul with a shiver. 

"You would, if praying would keep her away from you, I 
think," replied Dhondaram. 

"You do not pray to her, do you?" the child asked. 

" There are so many gods, that it is irhpossible to pray to 
all," said the muni. 

"How many gods are there?" asked Paul. 

" About three hundred and thirty millions," replied the 
muni, a smile of derision curling his lips again, for all the fact 
that he, too, was amone the humble devotees at the altars 
of those innumerable gods. 

"Why don't I pray, Dhondaram ? " the boy questioned, 
after vainly trying to gain any idea of how many three hundred 
and thirty millions might be. 

"You are an Ingrij," returned Dhondaram. 

"And what is that?" 

" You were not born in India. You are different." 

" Where was I born ? " 

" I do not know," replied the muni almost impatiently. 

" If I had been born here, should I pray as you do ? " 

" No : ' you are white." 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER, 



151 



" Does being white make me different ? " 

" No : being different makes you white." 

" I wish I were not different. I wish I were like you. 
Dhondaram." 

" But you would not be, if you knew me well. And you 
could not be, for it is not written in your forehead." 

" What is it that is written in your forehead ? " asked Paul, 
rubbing his little white hand over the furrowed brow of the 
dark Hindu. 

" Nothing good, nothing good. There is nothing good 
in Dhondaram," replied the muni with a shudder. 

" There is ! there is ! " cried the boy sharply. " Who wrote 
what is bad ? " 

" The God of Fate." 

"■ I will kill him when I am a man ! " said Paul fiercely. 

"Che! che ! " whispered the muni: "say it softly;" for, 
although he had smiled in derision, he was yet fearful that 
there might be some evil following such a remark. 

" Are there many people who are white ? " asked Paul. 

" Some," replied the muni briefly ; for he had been walking 
hard all night, and was not only tired, but very anxious. Little 
Paul did not dream how he, sitting so comfortably on that 
broad shoulder, was making the strong man tremble. 

They turned now along the river-bank ; and, in the gray 
mists that lay there just before morning, they saw little flicker- 
ing lamps floating down the stream. 

"What are they, Dhondaram?" cried Paul. " They seem 
like " — Paul almost said, " Fourth of July." It was on the very 
tip of his tongue ; and yet, when he stopped and wondered 
what it was that he was about to say, he could not remember. 
Some happy thought had flashed before his mind : he was sure 



152 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



of it. He laughed even then under the bright influence ; but 
what it was, was Hke all. the rest, — hidden just beyond his 
reach. " It must have been some dream," he said to himself, 
as Dhondaram replied, — 

" Those lamps are offerings to the river, by the women of 
the city just above. They are little wicks floating in oil, in 
wooden boats." 

But Paul cared less about the boats than the problem he 
was solving concerning himself. And as they turned down a 
broad avenue lined with magnificent palms, and with beautiful 
flowers in an endless profusion everywhere, he began again, — 

"Are there many white people, Dhondaram?" 

" A few," replied the muni, -hardly knowing what he said ; 
for the city was yet two miles ahead, and the sun was almost 
rising. 

"I never" — Paul hesitated. He was about to say that he 
never had seen any, when it suddenly seemed to him as though 
he had seen many. " Do they live far from here? " he asked. 

"White people live everywhere," said Dhondaram with 
a frown ; for far in the distance he saw several people coming 
down the way from the city. And the domes and minarets 
were now plainly visible through the trees, a half-mile away. 
He began to realize, that, after all his struggle, it would be 
impossible to get into the gate, and down the by-ways, where 
he knew many a hiding-place, without attracting attention to 
the little boy upon his shoulder. Paul's questions about 
white people added to this fear ; for, in truth, he knew that 
there were many white people living in the city. 

Just then an owl gave a farewell hoot to the dying night, 
from his perch in a banyan-tree not far away, and an ass brayed 
in the field to the left. They were two omens that were the 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 1^3 

worst that could have been given to the anxious Hindu ; and 
while he waited for a moment, wondering if he had better 
disregard them and go on, a wild hare ran across the road in 
front of him. Had the voice of God sounded, telling him in 
so many words to go no farther with the child, he could not 
have been more sure. 

"What are you waiting for?" asked Paul. 

" I am thinking you must be tired," Dhondaram replied. 
"You have been riding all night. You shall not go into the 
city till evening. You shall stop at this house here and sleep, 
while I go in and find a good friend, where we will live for the 
present." 

" I would rather go with you, Dhondaram ! " exclaimed 
Paul, clinging to the muni's neck, and beginning to sob ; 
for he was very tired and sleepy, though he did not realize 
it. 

" I shall not go away at once, and I shall be back before 
long for you," said Dhondaram, turning boldly up toward a 
little hut that lay half hidden in the verdant jungle that bor- 
dered on the road. 

It was a beautiful little spot, and at the first sight Paul 
was delighted with the prospect of waiting there. Dhonda- 
ram set him upon the ground, and let him run beside him. 
The house was built in two separate parts. At the left 
stood the working-part, without any front wall, but a sort of 
booth arranged in front, as though the owner sold something- 
through the day ; and at the right was the sleeping-hut, with 
only one very small door and a very small window. 

Dhondaram approached the working-hut, but it was empty. 
There was nothing on the booth, and only the pots and 
kzcja standing behind, and a smouldering fire in a round 



154 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



hole in the centre of the room. The family were evidently 
Hindus, judging from their pots and the arrangements of the 
hut ; and, seeing several empty tobacco bunniahs lying about, 
Dhondaram at once determined that the owner of the hut 
was a tobacconist. 

Knowledge is power. That is the muni's motto ; and, not 




IJATI\i, HIT 



to be wholly without knowledge, and seem too much like a 
stranger, Dhondaram called aloud, — 

"Ha! you biri wallah" (tobacco-dealer), "come out and 
show yourself if you are an honest man." 

A woman's head was thrust a little way out of the door of 
the other hut. 

"Who calls? There's nothing to sell to-day. Go on to 
the festival." But, seeing that it was a muni who spoke, she 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. I^c 

put her head a little farther out, and made an obeisance, put- 
ting her hands to her forehead. The muni returned her 
salaam, and, without waiting- for any further introduction, 
said, — 

" Look to what I tell you, mother of an evil-doer. It is ill 
that you bid one of the gods' selected to leave your house, and 
go his way. I want no purchasing from such as you, and I 
will go my way to the festival when it pleases me. Mark what 
I say : it is ill for you that I go without leaving you indebted 
to me for an opportunity, well accepted, to serve the Mother." 

Of all this the stupid woman understood as little as did 
Paul ; but she realized that she had offended a wandering 
muni, which is n-ot a very safe thing, for the poor at least, to 
do, and she hastened to reply, — 

" Ask what you will of me, and In the name of the Mother 
I will do it, and do it without pay." 

" Do it you will, and do it without pay ; and woe to you 
or any one who would not ! But that it may be the better 
done, if you do well I will pay you well." 

The woman touched her forehead to the ground. The 
muni continued, — 

"This little feringhi who is in my care has the Bramhanical 
blessing. He is weary, and before we enter the city he must 
rest. Give him the best you have, and let him sleep. I will 
lie and rest me in the shop, and later I will come for him." 

"We are not outcasts," said the woman, trembling; for 
she feared that she should lose caste or defile herself by tak- 
ing the little white boy into her dirty hut. Dhondaram was 
instantly angry, or appeared to be. He turned suddenly, and, 
with his back to the woman, he threw dust at her with his 
foot. 



156 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Lower than the lowest ! viler than the vilest ! eat dirt and 
be defiled. Go hence a beggar. Thus saith a Bramhan of the 
Bramhans." 

It had the desired effect. The woman fell upon her face 
with a wail. 

" Let him come in. Let the feringhi have all and more 
than all. Come in and find the best, and give it him. Let 
me sit by him and keep ill from him while he sleeps. Let me 
be his slave, but keep thy curse." 

"I'll see how you perform yourself. Come out of the 
house. I will not defile myself by going in till you are out." 

Creeping on her knees, the woman came out of the low 
door ; and, leading Paul by the hand, Dhondaram entered. 
There were only two rooms, and very simple ; but he soon 
prepared a comfortable mat, and, assuring Paul that the woman 
would not dare to do any thing but the very best for him, 
he left him lying on the mat, with no ornament or piece of 
furniture to attract his attention (for there was nothing of the 
sort in the little room), and with several sweet limes to eat 
when he should wake up. The boy was so used to strange 
surroi ndings, that he hardly paid them any attention ; but 
before the voice of Dhondaram had ceased to sound, in 
conversation with the woman outside, he was fast asleep. 

Creeping in to see that all was vv^ell, the old woman crept 
out again to talk over the event with her nearest neighbor. 
There was to be a great festival in the city ; and the neigh- 
bor, owning two bullocks and a cart, was going to carry into 
the city all of his friends who could get on, to participate 
in the very holy festival and merry-making. The old woman's 
son, who kept the tobacco-booth, had already gone to the 
city, and she did not propose to be left out. 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



157 



Regardless of the promise she had made to the muni, and 
the boy who lay sleeping in her hut, she took the advice of 
her neighbor, and made herself ready to go in the cart. It 
came rattling to her door, with its two noisy wheels and no 
springs, the long pole resting on a sort of crossbar, that, in 
turn, rested on the necks of the two bullocks, just in front 
of a huge hump growing on the fore-shoulders of each, almost 
like the bump on a camel, and effectually doing away with 
the need of a yoke. 

Once more the 
old woman crept in, 
and looked at the 
child. Paul was 
soundly sleeping. 
Then again she crept 
out, got into the cart, 
and was gone. 

It was past noon 
when little Paul 
awoke, rubbed his 
eyes, sat erect, and 
wondered where he was. He had had so many strange 
impressions of late, that it was some time before out of 
them all he resolved the present, and was sure of what 
had happened just before he went to sleep. But there were 
the sweet limes, at least ; and he ate one of them while he 
waited for some one to appear. No one came ; and he got 
up and went out. Every thing was deserted. He called 
Dhondaram, but received no answer. He remembered that 
he had said he should go to the city, and the city was plainly 
in sight. He must be coming back by this time, Paul thought, 




NATIVE LAE,i 



158 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and at once made up his mind to go toward the city, and 
meet him. He put two sweet Hmes in his pocket, and began 
eating a third, for he was very hungry, and started on. On 
the way he met a httle naked Hindu boy with some bananas, 
and he gave him a sweet hme for two of them. Paul thought 
he had made a good trade, and the Hindu was sure that 
he had. The two bananas satisfied his hunger, and kept him 
busy till he was very near the gate of the city. 

Every thing was so strange and interesting to Paul, that 
he forgot about Dhondaram, and forgot about himself. He 
never thought of being alone, or of being afraid. It seemed 
more like one of the old dreams than any thing real ; and at 
last he reached the gate. Inside there was a dense crowd, 
but outside there were very few. It was a gloomy gray wall 
that surrounded the city, and a gloomy gateway. Inside he 
could see all sorts of bright costumes and bright colors, and 
hear the music and shouting, that betokened the happiness 
of every one engaged in the religious feast. It drew him like 
a magic spell. He was hurrying in, when his eye fell upon 
an old beggar sitting beside the gate, and a little boy close 
to him. 

Paul was not sufficiently versed to know by the dress and 
position what the old man was : indeed, he hardly looked at 
him a second time. But a cry of joy burst from his lips as 
he saw the boy beside him. In his own boy's heart he thought 
it the prettiest face he had ever seen. That tantalizing picture 
that had so often come almost into his mind, and then slipped 
away again, once more appeared ; and he seemed to half 
remember merry times that he had had somewhere, with 
merry children all about him. He ran across the road ; and, 
sitting down on the mat close to the little black-eyed, black- 




BZGGAR AND BOY. 



l6o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

haired boy, he touched a lock of the curHng hair with his 
dainty Httle white finger, and, looking into the child's face, 
in a spasm of joy he kissed the dark lips that were half open 
over the tiny white teeth. The child shrieked, and sprang 
upon the old man's knee, rubbing his lips furiously, to wipe 
away the kiss. 

Paul stepped back, and watched him doubtfully. 

" I didn't mean to scare you, little boy," he said apolo- 
getically. " But I don't believe I hurt you like that. My lips 
are not dirty, are they ? " he asked, suddenly remembering 
that he had been eating. He wiped his mouth carefully on 
his sleeve. " You can put mud on your mouth, and kiss me 
to pay, if you like. I'm sorry ; but I don't think I am like 
you, for I was made white." 

Paul had mingled some English words with his Hindu- 
stani without knowing it ; and at best the boy did not 
understand much Hindustani either, for there are many 
languages spoken in India. But he understood enough to 
know that it was an apology ; and, pouting, he slipped off the 
old man's knee again. Paul was disheartened, however, and 
was turning away, when he bethought him of the last sweet 
lime that remained in his pocket ; and as he took it out, 
and held it up, the boy's eyes brightened, and his little hand 
was extended instantly. 

" You like sweet limes better than you do kisses," said 
Paul a little sarcastically, as he turned away, and entered the 
gate. 

Throngs of people crowded the streets. Every one was 
talking and shouting. On almost any other day there would 
have been swearing and terrible cursing by people who were 
so used to it that they really did not know that they were 




«Su-, 



THE HINDU FEAST. 



1 62 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

cursing at all. There would have been venders of all sorts 
of every thing, and every one would have been hurrying in 
his own way. But to-day was the great festival, and every 
one was good natured. 

No one seemed to notice little Paul, as he bent his steps 
this way and that, catching glimpses of pretty things that 
pleased him as he slowly worked his way toward where he 
heard the loudest music, intent upon reaching the spot if it 
took him all day : and it seemed very likely to ; for, if he 
had thought of it, the sun was sinking very low, and the air 
was growing red with the approaching sunset. 

Soon, however, the music helped him out by beginning 
to come toward him. There were huge elephants as far as 
the eye could reach, with magnificent golden howdaks, or cars, 
upon their backs ; and flags were flying, and priests, with all 
sorts of instruments, were making all sorts of noises ; and every- 
where the boys, and even the men too, were firing fire-crackers 
to make more noise. There was little in harmony ; and, as 
for the music, it was horrible, there is no doubt of it : but 
Paul had not an educated ear ; and the excitement was so new 
and grand to him, that, for a little time, he seemed in the 
seventh heaven. But the procession was very long, and the 
crowd was very rude, and little Paul was jostled about in 
every direction. 

The first of the long line of elephants was out of sight 
in one direction, and still there was no end to the line in the 
other. Some one stepped heavily upon Paul's foot. The 
pain brought tears to his eyes. He struggled to get out of 
the crowd. He wanted to go home, when it suddenly oc- 
curred to him that he had no home. He would go back to 
the place where Dhondaram had left him. But where was 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



163 



It ? He had no idea. And where was Dhondaram ? It 
came upon him, in all its force, that he had lost every thing, 
just at the moment that he had begun to have something 
worth keeping. What could he do ? He was too miserable 
to cry. It would only have clogged his throat, when he was 
choking already. 

While he was uncertainly yielding to every pressure of 
the crowd, not caring what became of him, he had been 
pushed nearer and nearer the path of the elephants ; and now, 
as he looked up, the gloomy shadow of one of those great 
blue-black creatures was right upon him, with all its be- 
spangling gold and silver, and beautifully embroidered blankets, 
' and a little temple on its back, — all of glistening gold. 

The driver, with a pointed iron bar in his hand with 
which to guide the elephant, was sitting on his head, and 
saw Paul in the path. He shouted to him to get away : but 
Paul did not see or hear either the elephant or its driver ; 
for suddenly his eyes were riveted on the figure of a man, 
tall and broad-shouldered, towering above the other Bramhans, 
walking before the elephant, playing on a native instrument. 

" Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " cried Paul in a shrill voice ; 
and rushing before the elephant, whose great trunk must 
have struck him and knocked him down, had he not care- 
fully lifted it out of the child's way, Paul sprang into the arms 
of his muni friend. 

A sharp, bitter contortion distorted every feature of Dhon- 
daram's face, as he recognized his charge, and heard his 
own name shouted in that throng. He had made discoveries 
that had horrified him on reaching the city ; and, thanking 
Heaven that the boy was safe outside, he had bearded the 
lion in his den, and, to throw off suspicion, was marching 



i64 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



there in that procession, under the very eye of officials who 
were searching for him, when " Dhondaram ! " rang from 
the hps of the httle boy, and Paul leaped into his arms. 
For an instant the black eyes rested on the little figure. It 
was a moment when life and death were but a hair's breadth 
apart. He could drop the child there, and possibly escape 
alone. The arms relaxed. Whatever his original motive had 
been, in taking charge of Paul, it evidently would not stand 
this test. 

" Dhondaram ! Dhondaram ! " rang from a hundred voices 
in that crowd, as that magic name sounded, sending a thrill 
of fear into many a heart, and making many a coward quail. 
Paul did not even wonder why. 

In an instant that horde might fix upon him, and tear 
him in pieces. Dhondaram knew it well. It was growing 
dark. The procession had already begun to light torches 
here and there, and all was an uncertain mass in the con- 
flicting cross-lights. The momentary hush was simply because 
the crowd were waiting to know just where and which Dhon- 
daram was. 

The muni looked steadily into the large blue eyes. They 
were laughing and happy. In that instant the arm tightened 
ao-ain about the little fig-ure. " He is not afraid of me. He 
kissed Dhondaram ! " the muni muttered ; and, bending for- 
ward with his burden, he sprang under the elephant beside 
him just as a hand was laid upon his shoulder. 

All that Paul realized was that he was wrapped beneath 
the robe of his friend, who hurried one way and another. 
He was painfully crushed sometimes ; but he only realized 
that there was danger of some sort, and heroically ground 
the suffering between his little teeth without uttering a sound 



WILD LIFE ON THE RIVER. 



165 



that might hinder his protector's escape, till finally the cries 
became more distant, and the pace of Dhondaram slower 
and more regular. When Paul opened his eyes again, through 
the folds of the priest's robe he saw that they were in a very 
narrow street, where all was dark, except for torches that 
were smoking on occasional booths, where there were people 
without any bright-colored clothes, and where there was no 
room for elephants. 
Sometimes a calf or 
a cow stood in the 
way, or a donkey 
with his burden 
almost filled the 
breadth of the 
path, and there 
was shouting and 
wrangling ; but no 
one was shouting 
the name of Dhon- 
daram now, and 
a moment later 
they turned into a 
still narrower alley, 
where the houses rose up above their heads till they seemed 
to touch the sky. Here hardly any one was passing, and 
there was very little noise. Here, too, Dhondaram walked 
still more slowly, and soon turned into a narrow doorway, and 
entered a small room opening from a court. 

There, with a sigh, he laid the burden down upon a 
coarse mat, lit a taper, and looked long and earnestly into 
the pale face and large blue eyes. 




A NARROW STREET. 



1 66 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" The little Ingrij was frightened," he said, gently touch- 
ing the golden-brown hair. 

" I was frightened till I found you, Dhondaram, and now 
I am hungry," said Paul, sitting up, and patting the dark 
hand. 

Dhondaram hurried out, locking the door behind him ; 
but in a moment he was back again with rice, cakes, and 
milk, and Paul noticed that his little bundle of clothes and 
the bag of sweet limes were already in the room. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



167 




CHAPTER XII. 

SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OP INDIA. 

was growing dark when the steamer on which Scott 
Clayton and Richard Raymond had so long been 
passengers came in sight of the beautiful harbor 
of Bombay. In the distance they obtained a fine 
view of the clusters of islands upon one of which the city 
of Bombay is built. But the gray dusk of night lay over the 
harbor, and the flash from the new Colaba light dazzled them 
as they passed it. 

The steamer made slow progress, for the water was liter- 
ally filled with fishing-craft. Scott could see the quaint out- 
line as they crept through the forest of boats, and at last 
he was interested in every thing. This was the land toward 
which all his hopes were turned ; and he eagerly drank in 
every item, that he might the more rapidly become acquainted 
with it all. 

The steamer was delayed in waiting for a pilot, for the 
pilots of Bombay are a very independent set of fellows. 

"They'll come when they get good and ready, and not 
before," remarked the captain gruffly, as he stood watching 
for their light. 

" Why is that?" asked Scott. " I should think they would 
want the job." 

"So they might," said the captain: "but there's a club 
of them ; and they all get their percentage, no matter who 
takes in the ship." 



1 68 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Then, why don't you go in yourself, and cheat the whole 
of them?" said Scott. "That's what I'd do." 

"I'd have to pay the pilot-fee all the same, as soon as I 
came to anchor," replied the captain. " And then, if I did 
any damage to myself or any one else, I'd be well punished 
for it by the court. That's all." 



^^r 



aA-*" ^j^^^^^^s?s^^'-5^-=i^"'- 








COAST OF BOMBAY. 



" And quite enough," observed Scott. Then the pilot-boat 
appeared. 

"They've stocked their lockers, and now they'll take us 
in," said the captain as he went on deck, meaning that they 
had waited to finish supper before coming out. 

Slowly, very slowly, the steamer crept up, and rounded 
the point, when suddenly all the lights of the circling city 
came into view, extending for several miles away in the 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



169 



distance. All over the water, too, were the lights of almost 
innumerable ships ; for Bombay is the great importation port 
of India. 

No sooner were the papers signed than the decks were 
swarming with all kinds of natives. There were half- naked 
boatmen, dingi wallahs in scores, wrangling for an oppor- 
tunity to carry them ashore ; for the tide rises seventeen feet 
sometimes in Bombay, and it is impossible to make the fine 
stone wharves available for the larger steamers. Mingling 
with them were very polite and loquacious hotel clerks, with 
the dark Hindu faces, but dressed as Europeans, pressing 
the claims of a half-dozen of the best hotels of the city. 
There were several Hindus and Mussulmans, who spoke 
English well, as they thought, urging the passengers to en- 
gage them as kitmutgars, or servants ; for, as Scott soon 
found out, every one in India has to have at least one 
native servant. When they were out of the bustle, Richard 
explained to him the necessity. These fellows were shoving in 
their faces numberless letters of recommendation from former 
employers. They were the neatest set who came on board, 
with white or colored turbans twisted tightly about their black 
hair or smoothly-shaven heads, long white cloaks bound about 
the waist with soft girdles, very small white breeches cling- 
ing about their ankles, and feet thrust into pointed slippers. 
But the most insinuating and the most unpleasant class of 
all were the Parsis, in all kinds of dress, most of them 
aping, in some respect, the clothes of the Europeans, but 
all wearing the curious shining black hats, looking like bishops' 
mitres turned sideways. They were money-changers, looking 
for opportunities to purchase English gold with Hindu ru- 
pees. They are lighter in complexion than the Hindus. 



170 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" They look as though they had a biHoiis turn, and had 
it bad," said Scott. " I should like to push the whole lot 
of them overboard." 

" It would hardly do," replied Mr, Raymond ; " for they 
are the Jews of Bombay. They have the money. They are 
very serviceable sometimes. You will meet them everywhere." 

It was so late when they landed, that as they rolled 
away in an English cab, driven by an apish-looking Hindu, 
Scott obtained but a faint idea of his surroundings, except 
that every thing was very strange. They went to the Byculla 
Hotel as soon as they landed on the Apollo bundar, or 
wharf; and early in the morning they started for a walk. 

Just outside the court of the hotel they came upon one 
of the great sights of India, — a band of jugglers. 

" They are bound to initiate you early," said Richard. 
" Here are some fellows that are almost the trademark of 
Hindustan. Wait till I set them going. They are lying 
around here, waiting for the people in the hotel to wake up." 
He threw some coins into the midst of the crowd, saying in 
Hindustani, " What are you about, you lazy fellows ? Don't 
you think we want to see any thing of India?" 

It was like throwing corn to a flock of hungry chickens. 
Instantly the whole crowd sprang up, and all together began 
operations. One fellow began beating a drum, and moaning 
and howling as if in his last agony. 

"Can't he stop that noise? I can hardly see while he is 
making that racket," said Scott. 

" You would see nothing if he should stop," replied Richard ; 
" for it is that delightful music that inspires the whole of 
them." 

And, sure enough, as soon as he was well under way. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



171 



they all grew excited, and their bodies and voices joined in 
the hubbub. In the front, just under their eyes, sat a fellow 
who drew out two thin swords twenty-six inches long ; and, 







after insisting that they examine them, he deliberately put 
the points into his mouth, and pushed the entire length down 
his throat. Then he wanted them to put their hands over 



172 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



his stomach, where they could feel the points. Another put 
a stone into his mouth ; and a moment later, fire and a dense 
cloud of smoke issued from his nose and mouth, which at last 
completely enveloped him. Then he suddenly turned a som- 
ersault, and, opening his mouth, calmly took out the stone, 
and threw it on the ground. One fellow took some iron 
hoops, one after another, on a pole, where he set them 
spinning, till he had eighteen in a line ; then, sticking the 
pole into the ground, he deliberately sprang through the 
whirling hoops, and, landing on his feet, he turned about, 
picked up the pole, and still kept the hoops whirling. 
Another began throwing short swords into the air, till he had 
ten of them flying about his head ; and, in all the confusion, 
little acrobats were performing all manner of antics, and a 
sleight-of-hand performer was endeavoring to attract their en- 
tire attention to endless little tricks he was dexterously play- 
ing. They set a basket down in their midst. It was about 
two feet broad, a foot and a half high, and two and a half 
feet long. They took a netting that was made in the shape 
of a small bag, and, after much ado, succeeded in crowding 
into it a Hindu boy. They tied the neck of the bag fast, 
and laid the boy upon the top of the basket, which was 
apparently much smaller than he was. A sheet was thrown 
over him ; and in a moment the netting-bag was thrown out 
from under the sheet, tied as it had been, but empty. They 
drew the sheet away, but the boy had disappeared. Some 
one said that he was in the basket ; and one of the Hindus 
at once took the cover off, and jumped in himself, stamping 
about in it furiously. He then put the cover on, and bound 
it. Then he took a long sword, and thrust it through the 
basket, and out of every corner. With the last thrust a wild 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



^7Z 



cry of pain issued from the basket, and he drew the sword 
out dripping with blood. 

"I have killed the boy!" he cried; and Scott shuddered, 
for he certainly thought he had. But the Hindu pointed to a 
crow sitting on a tree at a little distance, and said, — 

" Heaven be praised ! my boy was a good boy. He has 
only been turned into a bird ; but I will soon have him back." 
He gathered the sheet up into a little ball, and threw it at the 
crow, which was frightened and flew away. But the Hindu 
only laughed; and, gathering up the sheet again, he cried, — 

*' I have him ! " 

Then he threw the sheet over the basket with one hand, 
while he drew it off with the other ; and, behold, the basket was 
strained in every part, to contain the boy. The Hindu joy- 
fully untied the knots, and the cover flew up, for the boy was 
apparently so large that it could hardly hold him ; and, smiling, 
he crept out of the basket without a scratch. 

One of the Hindus then began to play the famous tree 
trick, — making a man go grow from a little seed, blossom, and 
bear fruit, under a sheet, where there was absolutely nothing 
but sand before : but they had looked so long that it was time 
for breakfast ; and, assuring Scott that he would see jugglers in 
India till he would wish that there was no such thing in the 
world, Richard turned away, and they entered the hotel court. 

The guests had begun to gather on the broad veranda, 
where already there were two snake-charmers performing. 

"These fellows are plenty just now: there must be some- 
thing up in the city that draws them here," said Richard, as 
they approached the little group gathered about the charmers. 

They were two wrinkled old Hindus, with eyes that looked 
like snakes' eyes, and motions that were so subtle and quick, 



174 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



that Scott thought there must be some affinity between them 
and their serpents. In httle baskets before them there were 
several snakes coiled away ; and each charmer was playing on 
a rude gourd flute to a huge cobra that was coiling and un- 
coiling and weaving before him in time to the music. They 




SERPENT-CHASMEBS. 



would hiss, and dart their heads at the charmers sometimes ; 
and the way the charmers dodged them showed that they did 
not think them entirely harmless, as they spread the broad 
hoods just below their heads, and displayed every symptom of 
anger. Then one of the charmers stood up, and, catching the 
snake about the neck with one hand, threw him three times 
about his head, and let him fall upon the ground. There he 
lay, rigid and stiff, at full length, and straight as an arrow. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



175 



" I have killed my snake," cried the Hindu ; " but I have 
a good cane instead." And, taking the creature up by the 
tail, he pretended to walk about, leaning on him. 

"Will any one buy my cane?" he asked, offering it to 
several of the bystanders, who shuddered, and drew away. He 
smiled ; and, thrusting the head of the rigid serpent under his 
turban, he began to push up the rest of the body, till at last 
all but the tip of his tail had disappeared. Then he removed 
his turban, and there lay the poisonous reptile in a glittering 
coil upon his head 

Scott gave a cry of surprise ; and Richard asked, " Does 
that remind you of any thing in particular ? " 

" Of Moses before Pharaoh ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" You are not the first one who has thought of it," replied 
Richard. " Sceptics are using it as an argument, to-day, to 
prove that Moses was only an expert snake-charmer, after 
all." 

" Well, he succeeded in getting the children of Israel away, 
and that was what he was driving at," said Scott. 

Richard went up to the charmer, who was now waiting for 
his assistant to collect the offerings. The people who had 
been looking on did not pay half so much attention now as 
they had before, and were some of them so busy read- 
ing the morning papers that they could not even hear the 
assistant when he spoke to them. After a moment's conver- 
sation, Richard returned, with the information that that day 
was the great feast of Nag-Panchmi ; and, on the way in 
to breakfast, he promised Scott that he should see serpents 
enough that day to keep him in snaky dreams for the rest of 
his life. 

The breakfast-room was large and high, and full of windows. 



176 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



opened wide and covered with kus-kus grass awnings, that 
Hindu servants in white costumes were continually sprinkling 
with water, to cool the light breeze that came through them. 
Over each long table something entirely new to Scott was sus- 
pended from the ceiling, looking like panels, three feet broad, 
as long as the table, and ornamented with fancy fringes. From 
the lower corner of each, that was only a little above the heads 
of those sitting at the tables, a small cord was attached, that, 
after passing through several pulleys, went down into the hand 
of a native boy, sitting close against the side of the room. Scott 
had noticed one of them in his room the night before, but he 
was too tired to wonder what it was. Now, before he could 
ask, the guests began to seat themselves ; and suddenly all the 
panels began to swing vigorously back and forth, fanning every 
one at the table. 

" You like the punkas f " said Richard, watching him. 

"That is a name and a half," replied Scott: " I should like 
them better with some other name." 

"There is nothing else that will do so well: 'punka' is 
Hindustani for ' fan,' and these pU7ikas are the saving of a 
fellow's life if he lives long in India." 

" But it is not so very hot this morning," said Scott : "I 
noticed that the thermometer was only eighty-three." 

" But did you ever know it to be so hot at eighty-three in 
Boston ? " asked Richard. " It is a sultry, damp heat here, that 
tells on one. The blood gets hotter and hotter. After break- 
fast we will drive on Malabar Hill, and obtain a little sea- 
breeze for a change." 

" I feel as if a breath of salt air would do me good," replied 
Scott, laughing. Nevertheless, after drinking a cup of hot 
coffee, and eating a plate of snow-white rice and curry, with 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



177 



chicken, and several bananas and oranges, he began to realize 
that eighty- three was certainly ho'tter in Bombay than it was 
in Boston, and that a sea-breeze would not be bad. 

They walked down the street a little way, as Richard wanted 
to mail a letter at the Byculla station, which was just beyond. 

Before the station -gate there sat an old man on the ground, 
and a boy stood beside him with a bamboo tray in his hands. 
They were ragged and dirty ; and the old man, especially, had 
as ugly and unpleas- 
ant a face as could 
well be imagined. 

" What in the 
world is that frightful 
fellow trying to do ? " 
asked Scott as they 
approached. 

" He's only sell- 
ing fruit," replied 
Richard. 

" But what a 
horrible face ! It's 
enough to drive 
every one to the other side of the street." 

" You don't buy the old man's face. You need not even 
look at it. Go to the boy, and get half a dozen of those 
custard-apples. You'll like them." 

Scott obeyed ; and when he was close to the old man, 
and looked fairly in his face, it was not so ugly after all. 

While they were stopping by the gate, a curious vehicle 
was driven by, drawn, at a slow dog-trot, by a span of mal- 
tese bullocks, with humps on their shoulders, in front of which 
the yoke was laid. 




FKUIT -SELLER. 



178 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Look at there ! " cried Scott. " Is that a man, or monkey, 
driving ? " 

" It's an argument for Darwin surely," repHed Richard. 
" But the poor fellow is not half so much a monkey as he 
looks. He is only one of the poorest of workingmen. That 
is a native gharri. It belongs to his employer. The poor 
fellow will not receive ten cents a day ; but out of it he 



r/^r 




GOING TO MARKET 



probably has a large family of children, and three or four 
wives, to support." 

" But that was a regular bufier riding with him. What 
was he, — crown prince, or sheik of some sort?" 

" Hardly," replied Richard, laughing. " What his ancestors 
may have been I could not say, for there are hosts of 
princes and nabobs working for their living in India now ; 
but that fellow is only some one's cook or butler, going to 
the market to purchase the breakfast." 

" I hope he's late enough about it," said Scott. 

** Not very," replied Mr. Raymond. " At the hotel we 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 179 

could have breakfast early : but, if we were living as every 
one lives in India, we should only have what they call ' chota 
hazri^ or ' little breakfast,' of bread and tea and fruit, early ; 
then we should sit about the house, and read and bathe, and 
about nine or ten we should have breakfast." 

" See ! He is stopping at that shanty. Is that the 
market ? " asked Scott, still watching the gharri. 

"It is the place where those fellows always stop first," 
said Richard. " It is a coffee-house. He will go in there, 
and smoke a hookah, and drink a cup of coffee, before he 
does any thing else ; and then he will charge enough more 
for what he gets at the market to pay the bill." 

" I'd go to market myself, if that's the way," said Scott, 
as they turned away. 

" It wouldn't pay," said Richard. " In the first place, it 
is too hot ; and then, when a European goes to market, they 
charge him so much more, that it is the cheapest in the end 
for him to pay for the cook's coffee." 

" Ha, you ! Buggy wallah ! " he called suddenly, as a car- 
riage something like a clumsy doctor's gig passed, with the 
driver sitting in front of the dasher. He obediently stopped, 
and turned up to where they were standing. As they got 
in, Richard directed him to drive them over Malabar Hill. 

"What was it you called him?" asked Scott when they 
started. 

" Buggy wallah," replied Richard. 

" But is not that English ? " 

" Yes, the buggy part of it is ; and this Is supposed to 
be an English vehicle. At any rate, ' buggy ' is the only name 
these people know it by. But eat your apples, and see if 
you like them. They have a wonderful history." 



i8o 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The apples were large and green ; but, instead of a skin, 
they were covered with coarse green scales. Scott pulled out 
one of these scales, and a soft buff pulp followed it, that looked 
and smelled and tasted like a most delicious custard. But 
the moment he had put his teeth into it, they struck against 
a hard black seed thkt literally filled the soft pulp. 

" It is splendid ! what there is of it," said Scott ; " but 




TO MALABAR HILL. 



one might almost starve to death while he was eating. What 
is the history ? " 

" Why, the real name is the apple of Eden ; and the 
Mohammedans say that that is the apple with which Eve 
tempted Adam in the garden of Eden. They say that then 
it had a skin like tissue, and of a beautiful color, and that 
the seeds were almost invisible, and that the flavor now 
is the very faintest suggestion of the fragrance that it had 
in the garden." 

" I don't wonder that Adam and Eve went for them, then," 
observed Scott, as he began a second apple of Eden. " How 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



I8l 



soon do we come to Malabar Hill ? " he asked, looking up 
when it was finished. 

" We are now driving on that illustrious spot," replied 
Richard, waving his hand ostentatiously. " We are in the 
midst of the residences of the aristocracy of Bombay, — Euro- 
peans, Parsis, Mussulmans, — the paradise of boobies and 
snobs, and some very good fellows too," he added with a 
laugh. 

" But I don't call it much of a hill," said Scott, looking 
down a broad and certainly beautiful avenue ; " though it was 
something like these apples, — very steep, what there was of it." 

"It is the most of a hill that there is on the island," 
replied Richard, as the driver turned about, and in time was 
in the heart of the city again. 

The streets were all crowded with people now, the booths 
were opened, and every thing in the bazaar was ready for 
business. There were all sorts of people, in all sorts of 
costumes, and doing every thing imaginable. There were 
nabobs swelling along with two or three servants about them, 
and beggars and merchants. There were women with their 
faces all covered with veils, and women with one eye exposed 
through the folds of a white sari that was thrown over th,em ; 
and there were women very prettily dressed in gaudy little 
jackets and silk breeches, with only a fancy gauze cloak. 
There were children half naked, and children, hosts of them, 
with nothing- on but a little stringf tied round their waists. 
There were porters carrying bundles, and sometimes half a 
dozen staggering along under the weight of a large box or 
bale hung upon a bamboo pole which rested on their shoul- 
ders ; and as they went they grunted, "He, he, he! Ho, 
ho, ho ! " to keep in step, and forget their burden. There 



1 82 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

were bhistis, or water-carriers, with large earthen jugs, or 
kujas, hung upon opposite ends of a long bamboo pole which 
rested over their shoulders, and women with all kinds of 
bundles on their heads. There were all nations there, and 
all seemed at home. There were British soldiers and native 
policemen ; and during their ride they even saw the peculiar 
sight of two Hindu policemen taking a drunken English 
soldier to the fort. 

No one seemed to fear being run over, or to be on the 
lookout for carriages ; and the result was, that the drivers had 
to keep up one unending howl to men, women, and children, 
who were forever in their way ; and one could have walked 
about as fast as the buggy was drawn through the bazaar. 

" What makes every one walk in the middle of the street ? " 
asked Scott. 

" Because there is nothing but middle," replied Richard. 

Scott had not thought of it before ; but, when he looked, 
there was absolutely no sign of a sidewalk anywhere. 

"They must get their shoes all dirt," he observed, "and 
have pretty-looking carpets to pay for it." 

" In the first place, they don't have carpets, as a general 
thing, not even the rich fellows," said Richard ; " and, carpets 
or no carpets, they never wear shoes into the house, any more 
than we wear our hats." 

" But what an absurd idea to take off one's shoes ! " ex- 
claimed Scott. 

" I don't know about that, Scott : they say, what an absurd 
idea to take off the hat, instead ! for they say their shoes 
touch the ground, and are defiled, and will defile their friends' 
houses ; but their hats do no harm on their heads. A host 
of things are right or wrong in this world, just according to 
who do them, and who judge them." 



1 84 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"■ I believe you are right, Mr. Raymond," said Scott. 
" But tell me some more about these fellows, and what they 
do. It is a deal more interesting than ever before, now that 
I am looking- rio-ht at them." 

"The best way to tell you will be to show you," said 
Richard. " And the best time to show you is right away 
now, for we don't know where we may be by to-morrow." 

" How are you going to show me ? " asked Scott, as 
Richard gave an order to the coachman. 

" I am going to take you to call on an old friend of 
mine, — Esofali Hiptulabhoy." 

" O Caesars ghost ! what a name ! " groaned Scott, as 
he sank back in the buggy. "What sort of a man is he?" 

" He is a high official, and a very good fellow," 

" He is a heathen, of course, to have such a name," 
muttered Scott. 

" Yes, he is a heathen," said Richard, but in such a voice, 
that Scott instantly looked up, and realized that he had hurt 
his friend's feelings. 

" I was only joking, Mr. Raymond," he hastened to add. 

" That's all right," replied Richard, smiling. " I was only 
thinking how Americans enjoy calling these people heathen, 
while there is much to admire, and really not much to 
despise, in them, except the bad habits they have learned 
from the English, which are made a thousand times worse in 
the Hindus than they are in the English, because the Hin- 
dus do not know how to control them, and hide them." 

"But tell me about this Mr. Hip — Hip — Hip — What 
was the name ? Really, it was horrible, Mr. Raymond." 

" Let me tell you what it means, and perhaps you will 
not think it quite so bad. My friend's name is Esofali. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 185 

His father's is Hiptula. The termination ' bhoy ' is put on, 
making him EsofaH Hiptulabhoy. The ' Eso ' is for the word 
' Esa,' meaning Jesus ; and ' Ah ' means follower, with a eu- 
phonious ' f ' between. Then ' Hipt ' means friend, and 
' Allah ' is God ; so that the horrible name of this heathen 
is ' follower of Jesus, and friend of God.' " 

"Then he is a Christian," said Scott. 

" Not at all," replied Richard. " He is one of the strictest 
of Mussulmans ; but the Mussulmans believe in Adam and 
Moses and Solomon, and in all the Old Testament, in fact, 
down to Jesus. Then they branch off, and believe that 
Mohammed was still greater, — the prophet of all the prophets 
of God." 

" Then you keep speaking of the Hindus as though they 
were something else." 

" So they are," said Richard. "It is only when we say 
Hindu very carelessly that we mean all the people that live in 
India. The Hindus are really the followers of the Bramhanical 
religion. There are one hundred and seventy-five million of 
them in India, and only fifty million Mussulmans, or Moham- 
medans as they are sometimes called. The Hindus are the 
people that the missionaries preach to principally, for the 
Mussulmans say that they are better than Christians already ; 
and so it is the Hindus that we hear all the horrible stories 
about. They are the people that are so divided up into castes, 
where the Bramhans, or priests, are at the head, and the 
pariahs at the foot. It is very hard to deal with them, 
they are so full of whims ; yet, after all, there is something 
very suggestive to our loose-jointed notions of strict Christian 
principles in the fierceness with which they stick to their 
religious peculiarities. I had two servants once, a Hindu 



1 86 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and a Mussulman, who went with me on a trip into the 
mountains. We were all alone, and a long way from help, 
when they both became badly poisoned, and I feared they 
would die. I had a bottle of antidote with me ; and, hurrying 
to the Mussulman, I put the bottle to his mouth without 
waiting to turn any out. Then I gave it to the Hindu ; 
but the fellow refused to touch it because it had been against 
the lips of the Mussulman. I turned some out, but all in 
vain. Before I thought, I told him it was all I had, or I 
should have deceived him in some way. But he only shook 
his head, and said, ' I would rather die than defile myself 
to live.' " 

" What a fool he was ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" I don't think so," said Richard. " That boy honestly 
believed that it was wrong for him to touch any thing from 
which one not of his caste had been drinking-. Because we 
think it a foolish notion did not make it right for him. And 
he died up there in the mountains sooner than do what he 
thought was wrong." 

" I don't believe a Christian would have done that," said 
Scott. " And I don't see the use of missionaries spending 
so much time and money in trying to convert fellows that 
are already a deal better than Christians. 'Twould be better 
to have them send missionaries to America." 

" That's a mistake that I made too, and I did not get 
over it for a long time. It would certainly do Christianity a 
deal of good to imbibe some of the scrupulousness of the 
Hindus ; but when it occurred to me how much better 
Christianity was, if really lived up to, than was this Hinduism, 
I saw at once the eood of brino-ino- such fellows as these 
Hindus into the line," 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



" Do they make as good Christians as they did Hindus?" 
asked Scott. 

" Here we are already! " exclaimed Richard, calling- to the 
driver to stop outside the gate. " This is a crazy sort of a 
gig to make a formal call on a great nabob in," he added 
with a laugh. " I fancy 
we might as well walk 
up to the house." And, 
suitinof his actions to his 
words, he stepped from 
the buggy. 

" I should not think 
he could be much of a 
nabob, to live behind a 
fence like that," Scott 
remarked, as he followed 
Mr. Raymond, and looked 
up at the high stucco 
wall, not in very good 
repair, beside a gate at 
which they had stopped. 

" In America we 
spend every thing on 
the outside," replied 
Richard ; " and we care 
comparatively little for the dust and dirty clothes behind the 
door, if our neighbor's eyes cannot see there. But in India 
they go on the opposite principle, and care very little what the 
outside is, so long as the inside is clean. It is only their 
way," he added, laughing ; but Scott's attention was attracted 
to a fiorure at one side of the half-crumblino- grate. 

o o o 




HINDU MENDICANT. 



1 88 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

A fellow, the very picture of some of the idols Scott had 
seen in drawings, sat by the gate, covered with rags, and as 
dirty as mortal man could easily be. His forehead was painted 
with blue and red and yellow, in three circles, and there were 
stripes of yellow down each cheek. On his head there was 
a pyramid of beads as large as English walnuts, strung on a 
coarse thread, and wound higher and higher over some dirty 
sort of a turban, till they came to a point. Strings of larger 
and smaller beads were round his neck, and hanofinof down 
to his waist. The rags that covered him were fantastically 
arranged. In one hand he held a copper or brass plate, and 
in the other a sort of a globe. 

" He is a religious mendicant," said Mr. Raymond, without 
waiting for a question. 

" But what in the world is he doing there?" 

" Waiting for alms," replied Richard, smiling. 

" I hope he's waiting patiently enough ! He don't seem 
over-anxious. He has not moved a feather since I first looked 
at him," said Scott. 

''That's because he believes it is more blessed to give 
than to receive ; and he thinks he is conferring a favor upon 
you by letting you have an opportunity to give him some- 
thing." 

" It's very good of him, I must say," said Scott a little 
scornfully. 

"It is precisely what our Bible teaches," suggested Rich- 
ard. " But never mind the theology of the thing. If you 
have a two-anna piece, like an English sixpence, hold it 
between your thumb and finger, by your side, and see how 
soon it will move him." 

"The old reprobate!" muttered Scott. "I'd sooner give 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



189 



him a slap in the face. He's the very picture of impertinence, 
sitting there Hke a statue. He's a hypocrite : I know he is." 

Still he took out the two-anna piece ; and, in an instant, 
the little dish came into position to receive it. Scott had a 
good mind to put the money back in his pocket. He even 
made a motion that way ; but, seeing how willingly the beggar 
was withdrawing the plate, he decided it would not be so 
good a joke after all, and dropped the coin in the tray. 

" Giving to the poor is purchasing mercy in heaven ; and 
in the spirit that you give shall the mercy be delivered. 
Thank you, little gentleman," said the fellow, bowing and 
smiling, and speaking in very good English. 

Scott shot through the gate as if he had been fired from 
a cannon. 

" I saddled the wrong horse that time surely," he said, 
when Mr. Raymond came up with him ; and his face was red 
to the temples. 

" Yes," said Richard, " he had the best of you : there is 
no doubt of it. I never heard of but one of those fellows 
before who could speak English." 

"Would you go back and apologize?" asked Scott. 

" I think not. He would hardly know what you meant. 
But I would be careful in the future, and not take advantage 
of a fellow being deaf, to speak ill of him," replied Richard. 

" So I will," said Scott decidedly. And now for the first 
time he noticed where they were going, and with a cry of 
delight paused for a moment to enjoy the beautiful picture. 
They were in the midst of a large garden, with brilliant 
flowers growing in profusion on every side. There were large 
trees, too, about the borders ; and little green and red parrots 
were chattering everywhere. The flower-beds were not fan- 



IQO 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ciful little things, like those Scott had seen in front lawns in 
America, but enormous affairs, without much regularity, with 
great flowering shrubs, like a little forest, and paths paved 
with white marble leading through them. Down the centre, 
through an open space, rose a large, and at least curious, 
mansion. There were little windows and broad balconies and 
domes and arches everywhere. The lower floor seemed to 




ESOFALI'S HOUSE. 



be only an immense pavilion of beautiful arches supported 
by carved pillars. 

*' Well," said Scott in astonishment, " he is somethino- of 
a nabob, after all. But how in the world am I to act ? 
Goodness me! I never thought of that. Let me wait out 
here. Please do. Do you keep on your hat, and take ofl" 
your shoes ? " 

" How would you expect a Mohammedan gentleman to 
act, when he was calling on your father ? " suggested Richard. 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



191 



" Why, the best he knew how, of course ! " said Scott. 

"Very well: if you behave like a gentleman to the best 
of your ability, I don't believe that Esofali will find any fault 
with you." But here he was interrupted by two natives, 
who came running toward them with something made of 
beautiful peacock-feathers. But before they began to shield 
them from the sun, as was their evident intention, they fell 
upon the ground, touching their foreheads, and muttering 
something in which Scott could often distinguish the name 
of " Raymond Sahib." He knew they were greeting his 
friend ; and he began to suspect that Mr. Raymond was of 
more importance than he had thought, from the generous 
way in which he had been his companion. 

They entered the house through one of the beautiful 
arches. Several servants were formed in line on either side 
of the passage ; and all knelt, and touched their foreheads, as 
Mr. Raymond and Scott went in. They were ushered into a 
large room with a white marble floor, and elaborately carved 
marble screens before the windows. There were fine tapes- 
tries and Persian rugs on the walls and floors, some very soft 
divans, or low sofas, and a little marble table ; but otherwise 
the room was without any ornaments. 

They had waited but a moment, when a very tall and fine- 
looking native entered the room, and almost running to 
Richard, clasped both hands in his, pressed them upon his 
lips and then on his forehead, held them there for a moment, 
then exclaimed, — 

"Aha, Raymond Sahib! the sky has been black since you 
left, and now the sun breaks out again with your coming. 
But nothing has gone wrong, that you come so unexpectedly ? " 

" Nothing is amiss," said Richard pleasantly ; and Scott 



1^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

thought it precisely the way in which he would have spoken 
to him, and wondered how it could be, when in the presence 
of so great a man as he had described Esofali. Then he 
turned, and introduced Scott, and Scott felt his cheeks grow- 
ing red, as the Mohammedan grasped his hand ; but he shook 
it just as though he were an American, and, in very good 
English, said, — 

" I am delighted to see you, my young friend. Any friend 
of the great and wise Raymond Sahib is welcome here." 
Then he went on in Hindustani with Richard, often address- 
ing a question in English to Scott, till Scott felt so much at 
home that he began to examine him closely. 

Esofali was magnificently dressed, yet very simply. He 
had a plain white muslin coat on, bound at the waist with a 
soft cashmere girdle. Over that was a long white silk loose 
coat, with a heavy collar embroidered with gold. It hung so 
low as almost to cover a pair of satin breeches that were 
very large, and, in turn, completely covered his feet. On his 
head he wore only a little cashmere cap as soft and white as 
snow, with a thread of gold embroidery about it. 

He insisted upon their remaining to breakfast. Scott 
thought it nearly time for his dinner, but it did not matter 
much what it was called. He was so much in fear that he 
should do something wrong, however, for every thing was so 
strange, that he almost lost his appetite. Several varieties 
of sweetmeats were the first thing served to them, in as many 
little dishes. Then there were fish and fried eggs, with a 
curious flavor that he did not understand. The odor was 
delicious, as the dishes were brought upon the table ; but the 
taste was so different, that, do what he would, he could eat 
but little. Then there was rice and curry and chicken ; but the 



SCOTT IN THE MYSTERIES OF INDIA. 



193 



rice had cloves and cardamom- seeds boiled in it, and the curry- 
was full of fruit. Scott knew it must be good by the way 
in which Mr. Raymond ate it, as he had never seen him eat 
before ; but he quietly made up his mind that Mussulman cook- 
ing was not for him. He little dreamed what a very short 
time it would be before he would eat those dishes, highly 
spiced and curiously cooked, 
quite as ravenously as Mr. 
Raymond. 

Before they went away, 
their host brought in his old 
father, a gentleman with a 
very white beard. His hair 
was shaven close to his head, 
like that of his son. He 
could not speak English, but 
received Scott very cordially. 
Then Esofali brought in his 
little boy, a cunning little 
fellow of five years, who sat 
on the edge of the table, and 
pronounced a few English words very correctly, much to the 
delight of his father and grandfather. 

When Mr. Raymond left, each pressed his hand to their 
foreheads, and bade Scott a cordial farewell, urging them to 
be sure and come to their home again. 

" Is his wife dead ? " Scott asked, as they rode down the 
street in their host's handsome English carriage. " I dared not 
ask him about her, for you did not ; but it was very funny not 
to see any lady at all at the table." 

Richard laughed for a moment, much to Scott's discom- 




FIVE YEARS OLD. 



1^4 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

fort, then replied, " One wife died a year ago ; but he has 
three, at least, left." 

" Three wives ! Why, how in the world can that be ? 
And where do they keep themselves ? " exclaimed Scott. 

" Though you did not see them, I'll warrant they all saw 
you I heard them chatting behind the screen at the end 
of the room while we were eating breakfast." 

"Then it would have been polite for me to have asked 
for them ? " said Scott. 

" It would not have mattered with Esofali, but it is not 
the custom. The wives of the Mussulmans very rarely come 
into society where there are men, and one never asks con- 
cerning their health. It would be thought a great impolite- 
ness here, just as it would be with us to ask a lady how old 
she was, or if she had the stomach-ache. It is simply some- 
thing that they never talk about." 



SNAKES. 195 




CHAPTER XIII. 

SNAKES. 

N driving home they passed the great cotton-market, 
where bales of Indian cotton were piled in immense 
blocks. On rickety benches at one corner sat a few 
men, many of them Parsis, engaged in folding their 
hands, and smoking cigarettes. 

"They are the famous cotton-brokers of Bombay," remarked 
.Richard, pointing toward them with his thumb. 

" Don't believe the board has opened yet, then," said 
Scott. "They are taking life easy." 

" It's not much like a botirse in America certainly ; and 
yet business is in full blast there, and those fellows literally 
control the vast cotton interests of India. They transact a 
tremendous amount of business, and do it all in that same 
solemn fashion." 

" I should have called it a funeral," observed Scott. 
When they reached the hotel, there were two natives wait- 
ing on the veranda, in clothes as white as snow, grinning 
from ear to ear ; and, the moment that Richard stepped 
from the carriage, they were both upon the ground, kissing 
his feet. He stepped back, and made them stand up. Then 
each took a hand, and pressed it to his forehead, and knelt 
again. Scott stood back in amazement, till Richard explained, 
" They are two boys from my little place at Poona, whom I 
telegraphed to, last night, to come down and meet us. We 



196 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



shall need them as kiimutgars, and we can trust them better 
than the fellows we might pick up here." 

"But what do I want of a servant?" said Scott inde- 
pendently. " I always waited upon myself." 

" You'll find it very different here," replied Richard. " It 
is too hot to do every thing for yourself; and you will often 
be too tired, though you may have done nothing. Then, there 
are a host of things that will absolutely require a servant. 
Things that you could do in America, and be proud of doing, 




THE COTTON-BROKERS. 



would injure you in the opinion of natives, at least, to do 
here. One is oblig-ed to cater to their notions somewhat, in 
living here ; for he requires their respect and good will." 

" It must make it rather expensive," said Scott. 

" Not so very. These two boys, for instance, cost me 
eight cents a day apiece ; and if we wished we could pick 
up boys for less. The hotels charge nothing for them ; for 
they do our work, and wait on us at the table. And many of 
the railroads and steamers about India allow each first-class 
passenger to take one or two native servants." 



SNAKES. 



197 



By this time they had reached their rooms ; and Richard 
said, — 

" Neither of these boys can speak Enghsh, for I never 
employ one that can : they are apt to be unreHable. But 
they will either of them understand what you want, almost 
before you can ask them. You can take your choice. The 
one with the gold cao 
and jacket is Say ad, an 1 
the one with the turban 
is Moro. Sayad is a Muj 
sulman, and Moro is 
Hindu." 

The two boys smiled, 
as they already compre- 
hended what Mr. Ray- 
mond was saying about 
them. 

" I think I could get 
along with a Mussulman 
best," said Scott, to which 
Richard assented ; and 
Sayad, with his pretty 
gold cap and vest, was 
turned over to Scott as his personal servant so long as he 
remained in India. 

" He will sleep on a rug just outside your door at night," 
Richard explained. " He will attend to your bath in the 
morning ; he will black your boots, and brush your clothes ; 
take care of your trunk ; see to your washing going and 
coming from the dhobi, or washerman ; wait on you at the 
table ; take care of your room ; and walk with you whenever 



fe- 



198 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



^ 



you wish him to, to carry your bundles, and do errands. You 
must let him do all these things every day, see that he does 
them well, and never do them yourself, or he will expect you 
always to do them. Be kind to him always, but never let 
him feel that you think him an equal. They are not brought 
up in that way here. There are just two things that you 

must be careful of. For- 
gners often overlook 
iliem at first, and at once 
)me to the conclusion 
ihat Hindus are the worst 
irvants in the world. 
You must know just what 
you have in your trunk, 
and, if you miss any thing, 
tell him at once, and 
direct him to find it be- 
fore the next morning, 
and never believe too 
implicitly what he tells 
you. As a rule, the Hin- 
du idea of honesty is very 
^^^^^- weak in little things. 

They will steal and lie without thinking they are really doing 
wrong. If you charge them with it, and grow angry, they 
only become dogged, and you can do nothing with them ; 
but, if you take it right, you will keep them right all the 
time, without their feeling it. That's a long sermon I've 
preached to you on the moral treatment of Hindu servants ; 
but it took me years to learn it, and I found it very useful 
at last. Now we must be ready for dinner ; and you'll be 



l,jMLl^i ^Mu- 




SNAKES. iQg 

hungry, notwithstanding- the hearty breakfast you ate at Eso- 
fali's, hey ? " 

Scott went into his room, followed by Sayad, who did not 
need an order to that effect, for his eyes had told him all 
about it ; and he and Moro found it hard to tell which should 
be jealous of the other, — the one who was selected by the new 
comer, or the one who could remain with the old master. 

Scott opened his eyes wider and wider to see how readily 
Sayad took his new duties in hand, and how he seemed to 
read his thoughts. The clothes for dinner were laid out at 
the boy's fancy, and correctly, without consulting Scott. They 
were brushed and put upon a chair in such a way that Scott 
could most easily reach them in the proper order. Then his 
slippers were given him to put on, while Sayad blacked his 
boots. Sayad even shampooed his head, and combed his hair 
for him, and did it as well as a barber, — an operation that 
Scott found very refreshing in the heat of that Bombay 
afternoon. Then he neatly folded the old clothes, and care- 
fully packed the trunk, and locked it, giving the key to 
Scott. Thus, without a word passing between them, Scott 
was ready to go down, and every thing in order to leave. 
He had done absolutely nothing but move enough to take 
off one suit of clothes, and put on another. 

"Why, it's like being a sultan!" he exclaimed to Mr. 
Raymond when they met. " He's the finest fellow I ever 
heard of." 

"Well, don't let him know that you think so," replied 
Richard. " Nothing spoils a native servant so quickly as 
undue praise or blame. A new broom sweeps clean, you 
know ; and, the first time you see that he has not done any 
thing just as well as he did it to-day, make him do it over 



200 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

again, no matter how tired he Is. It Is the only way to keep 
him straight." 

"Isn't that rather rough?" questioned Scott. 

" It sounds so : but that Is the way I've brought these 
boys up ; and you see they are not only good servants, but 
they love me." 

After dinner Richard proposed that Scott should take a 
nap, while Sayad pulled the punka over his bed ; " for," said 
he, " some friends of mine are going to give us a little dinner 
of welcome to-night, and it will be pretty late, as we must 
go first to the feast of serpents. It Is a sight one sees but 
once a year In Bombay, and we must not miss It. You will 
be tired." 

The sun was setting when they started. They went alone ; 
and Sayad and Moro were allowed to go by themselves, to 
see what they wished of the festival. 

" It has been going on all day, especially about the 
temples," said Richard ; " but to-night we shall see the best 
of it. Look at that ! See that bullock-team going by ! " 

Scott looked up, as, through the dense crowd that already 
filled the street, a curious wagon, drawn by a pair of nearly 
white bullocks, went crowding Its way. The bullocks had 
really no harness on, but a strap about their necks to keep 
the unique yoke fast, and a ring In their noses, to which a 
sort of reins was attached ; for the driver sat behind, as 
though he had a pair of horses. The carriage was the most 
curious thing, however. There were two heavy wheels, with- 
out springs, supporting a very clumsy body, that was nothing 
after all but a dome, very like a miniature temple, with four 
arches and four pillars, supported at the four corners of the 
vehicle. In the front arch sat the driver, and under the 



SNAKES. 



20I 



dome a woman reclined, wrapped up in a cloud of gauze, and 
wearing all the jewelry that she could pile upon her little face 
and neck. 

"What is she?" asked Scott. " Upon my word, it's almost 
a mowing-machine ! " 

"A Bramhan woman, — one of the very highest caste of 




CARRIAGE OF HINDT7 LADY. 



Hindus," replied his friend. "It is their great day for show- 
ing themselves. It is really the feast of the god Krishna, 
whose great celebrity is his love for pretty women ; and they 
make to-day the anniversary of his killing the great serpent 
Bindrabund, that was once supposed to be the spirit of evil 
on the banks of the Jumna." 

"It is not simply the worship of Krishna, is it?" said 
Scott. 



202 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" No, indeed ! It is a day of making offerings to snakes 
in general, — feeding them, that is about all, and praying 
to them not to bite them in the year to come." 

" See those torches yonder ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" That is where we are going. That is the centre of the 
illumination. There is no hurry, though ; for they will wait 
till it is quite dark before they begin." 

" Look at these booths all along the way," he added. 
"They have images of the god for sale;" 

"Idols?" ejaculated Scott in horror. 

" Yes, idols," replied Mr. Raymond, laughing. " And 
garlands of flowers, and milk, to offer to the snakes. You 
might purchase a can of milk, and take it with you ; for the 
priests will be pleased with the offering, though they would 
not take the milk from you themselves." 

"Do they really worship these things?" asked Scott in a 
sort of fascinated horror, working his way up to one of the 
booths. 

" Not at all," returned Richard decidedly. " And that is 
where a host of our good people in America make a great 
mistake." 

" I always thought they did," mused Scott, now taking 
one up, and looking at it for a moment, when, before, he 
would have loathed it. 

" The Hindus who are at all educated would laueh at 
you, if you suggested that they were worshipping this piece 
of wood." 

"What do they worship, then?" 

" God," said Richard earnestly. 

" Not our God ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" There may be a difference of opinion there," replied 



SNAKES. 



203 



Richard. " For my part, I believe they worship the same 
God that we do, and that he accepts their worship." 

" Then, why should they be converted by the mission- 
aries ? " 

" Because Christianity is so much the noblest and best 
way to worship God. The Hindus had, perhaps, the first idea 
of a Trinity ; and their theology is something like that of 
very many scholars 
in enliofhtened 
lands. They be- 
lieve that God is 
every thing, and 
that every thing is 
God. They say 
this little bit of 
wood, of which 
they made this idol, 
is a part of God, 
and that, in setting 
it before them when 
they pray, they are 
bringing the great 
God nearer, and more directly before their thoughts. That 
is all the use the educated make of idols." 

" I don't call that idol-worship," mused Scott. 

" Perhaps not," returned Richard ; " yet it is not the best 
way to bring God before the heart in prayer ; and the quicker 
our missionaries succeed in their work, the better it will be 
for the world, even if it is no better for heaven." 

Scott bought some milk, and turned away. While they 
had been waiting, a band of snake-charmers had gathered, 




MOKE SNAKE-CHARMERS. 



204 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



with a crowd of boys who were anxious to see every new 
performance, around the posts of a fountain, or well, just 
opposite, and were meditatively twining their serpents around 
their arms, hoping for an opportunity to earn some money 
in performing for the foreigners. 

They looked so patiently expectant, that Scott was on 

the point of giving 
them the milk he had 
bought, when Rich- 
ard restrained him. 

" They have had 
a good day, you may 
be sure," he said ; 
" and, no matter how 
much they earn, they 
will spend it all be- 
fore morning. You 
had better save the 
milk. It was the last 
they had at the 
booth ; and, if you 
have an offering, they will let you through the crowd till you 
get a much better view farther on." 

This was very good advice, as Scott soon found ; for, as 
they approached the centre of action, the crowd became 
denser. And soon all that he could see, even when lifted 
up on Mr. Raymond's shoulder, — a position that his sea 
voyage had made him much too heavy to retain long, — was 
a crowd of dark faces and white turbans against the smoking 
torches. 

It was a curious sight, however ; and Scott declared that 




THE CROWD BECAME DENSER. 



SNAKES. 



205 



even that was well worth coming for : but Richard insisted 
on getting him nearer. 

A few minutes later a Bramhan bhat, with shaven head, 
went slowly past them. It was a difficult thing for a Bram- 
han to make his way through such a crowd ; but they were 
not so boisterous or tightly packed as a crowd in America, 
and fell back sufficiently to give him room as he announced 
his approach. 

Just as he was passing the two, Richard called, — 

"Ha, Kashinath ! " and added in English, "Will you pass 
an old friend in this way without speaking ? " 

The priest turned about, and, with an exclamation of 
delight, cried in English, " Welcome, Raymondrao Sahib ! 
Welcome to India again ! You could not stay away very 
long, thank Heaven ! " And he touched his hands to his 
forehead. 

"Come to the temple in the morning," he added. "We 
die if we do not speak with you." 

" That's very good, Kashinath," returned Richard with 
a laugh. " But look you ! Here is a young friend of mine, 
who has an offering of milk, and cannot reach your ugly gods 
to stuff them." 

" Stand right by the corner here, Raymondrao, and I will 
send a sapwallah in five minutes to fetch him on his back." 

"That's better yet!" exclaimed Mr. Raymond. "That 
beats all your Oriental compliments put together. Go on ! 
Go on ! Send the sapwallah, and we'll thank you in the 
temple to-morrow." 

" Salaam, Sahib ! " said the Bramhan, bowing as low as the 
crowd would permit, and touching his hands to his forehead. 

"What is a sapwallah f asked Scott. 



2o6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" A serpent-charmer," replied Richard. 

" Ugh ! " was the comment. " Have I got to ride like a 
cobra f " 

" Never mind who carries you, and brings you back," said 
Richard, laughing, " so long as he takes you safely where you 
want to go ; and you may be sure of that with any one whom 
Kashinath may send." 

"Well, what does Raymondrao Sahib mean?" questioned 
Scott, who was afraid, that, if he waited, the name would 
" slip from his mind," as he said, 

" Rao is simply a title of respect, and so is Sahib. The 
old fellow felt good-natured, and put it on thick : that is 
all." 

" Well, how is it that you know every one, and every one 
is so terribly good-natured when you are around ? " asked 
Scott, determined to solve the question that was becoming 
more prominent every hour. 

"There comes your sapwallah,'' was the answer, that was 
not at all satisfactory. " Now, twine around his neck, but 
don't go bury yourself under his turban." 

A rather snaky but not altogether unpleasant looking 
fellow appeared through the crowd, and, making a profound 
salaam to Mr. Raymond, took Scott on his shoulder without 
a word, and, by wriggling precisely like a serpent, succeeded 
in rapidly making his way through the throng w^ithout ap- 
parently incommoding any one. He set Scott gently down 
in the midst of a scene that startled every particular hair of 
his head, and yet was so wildly grand that he stood en- 
raptured. 

All about nim torches were flaminof and smoking. Gro- 
tesque banners were being swung back and forth by their 




THE FESTIVAL OF THE SERPENTS. 



208 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



bearers, as there was no breeze to do it. Men were beating 
curious drums, and wailing- strange, weird songs, while others 
were blowing upon metal trumpets. From a circle in which 
Scott stood, the crowd had been kept back, by fear of the 
snakes perhaps ; and all about the outer edge stood a line 
of women — that, in the cross-lights of the moon and the 

torches, seemed to Scott 
to be the most beautiful 
he had ever seen — in cos- 
tumes as beautiful as they 
themselves. Some were 
dressed in tinsel and bril- 
liant colors ; some, only 
half clad, were draped in 
flowing white ; all were 
bearing offerings of flow- 
ers or milk for the idols. 

So far, the scene was 
so wild and beautiful that 
Scott would have stood 
there all night, an en- 
chanted spectator ; but, 
when his eye fell to the 
immediate circle about him, his blood ran cold, in spite of a 
lifetime of resolving not to be a coward. Directly before him 
there were two great bowls, each filled with milk ; and around 
each bowl was a writhing ring of frightful cobra, drinking the 
milk, while their charmers, in a second circle, were making all 
the hideous moans imaginable, now and then catching one 
of the cobra away, to give another a chance. And the dis- 
appointed fellow would hiss in his madness, and spread his 




SAPWALLAH. 



SNAKES. 



209 



broad hood, that looked many times more hideous in the 
night than by day. 

Scott deposited his can of milk, received the blessing of 
the chief sapwallah in a terrible contortion, that frightened 
him almost out of his wits. Then he signified to his par- 
ticular sapwallah that he was ready to retire, and, with a 
shudder, was tenderly taken on the back where so many 
a cobra had been crawling, and a moment later was placed 
as tenderly by the side of Mr. Raymond. 

" Did you see enough ? You were only gone a moment," 
said Richard, as he dropped a coin into the sapwallah! s 
easily opened hand. 

" I saw enough. Indeed, I did ! " replied Scott. " In fact, 
I think I have seen all the snakes I care to for a lifetime : 
am ready to go home any time you are." 

"You are not hurt?" inquired Richard anxiously. 

"No, indeed! But those snakes!" said Scott with a 
shudder. 

Richard laughed outright. " If that is all," he said, "you'll 
soon be ready to do it all again. Snakes never lose their 
charm. But we will find a buggy or cab as soon as possible, 
and drive back." 



2IO OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XIV. 

IN PALANQUIN AND ROT7V-BOAT. 

HE evening dinner was a very grand affair. Scott 
had never seen any thing equal to it. And when 
the speeches began, he was hardly surprised, after 
all, to gather from the many words of welcome that 
his friend was a man of great importance in India, well 
known from Bombay to Calcutta, and from Madras to Mas- 
suri. He began to be afraid of him, and to wonder if he 
were not behaving himself improperly before a man to whom 
every one, no matter of what creed or nationality, seemed to 
offer esteem. When the dinner was over, however, he was 
altogether too tired to give the matter any serious thought ; 
and the next morning, as he was very late, and his friend 
came to his room for him to go to breakfast, he found him 
the same Richard as ever, — just a kind, every-day friend. 
And Scott looked in vain for any of that dignified Mr. Ray- 
mond upon whom all the praises had been showered the 
night before. 

Even had he tried, it would have been impossible for 
him to be any thing but his natural self with Richard Ray- 
mond, and he was very glad of it ; for one of the hardest 
things for a real, true-hearted boy to be is an artificial, imi- 
tation gentleman. 

When breakfast was over they started for a walk ; but 
as the sun was well up, and was beating upon the city in a 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 211 

way that made it dangerous for them to exercise, Richard 
proposed that they take advantage of an offer a friend had 
made him at the dinner, and borrow his large palanquin for 
the morning. 

" Then this afternoon we must go to the caves of Ele 
phanta ; for to-morrow is Sunday, and we should start for Puna 
the next day. I am anxious to have you stop for a day at my 
little home there, and we do not know how soon we may hear 
something that will send us from one end of India to the 
other. I have put the best agents right upon the track of 
Dennett ; and we shall overhaul him in a little while, no 
matter what he is doing, or where he is." 

" If little Paul were only safe with us, I should be per- 
fectly happy," said Scott. 

"Well, in time we shall have him. There is no human 
doubt of it," replied Richard. " I have had every outlet 
stopped. I don't believe the man can possibly escape from 
India. It is a big trap, to be sure; but he is here, and Paul 
was all right when they landed, about six weeks ago. Chil- 
dren rarely feel this climate the first year, and I don't believe 
Paul will." 

After a short call, they accepted the palanquin, which was 
called to the court for them. 

" One of those little carriages hanging on a pole," re- 
marked Scott, laughing as he saw the palanquin. 

*' Yes, one of the handsomest and easiest ones I ever 
saw, except those belonging to natives," returned Richard. 
"There are not many palanquins to let in Bombay, at the 
best. They are not so popular as they are in the rest of 
India, and then the public ones would be so small that we 
could not both ride in one ; and I want to keep you awake, 
and make you see the sights." 



212 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"A regular four-horse team, isn't it?" added Scott, as 
he seated himself in the handsomely carved wood carriage, 
that was, as he said, hung on a pole, — a long, ornamented 
pole at each end, — which was supported on the shoulders 
of four stalwart natives, who certainly seemed to enjoy their 
work, by the jovial way they started off, singing the great 

national song of the 
palanquin - bearers, 
" He, he, he ! Ho 
ho, ho ! " . 

The palanquin 
was low : one could 
comfortably sit up 
in it, but that was 
all. There was a 
soft bamboo mat- 
tress over the floor, 
with embroidered 
pillows, so that one 
could lie down, and 
even sleep, very 
comfortably ; and at one end was a little closet, where books 
for reading, or a lunch, could be carried. Before they started, 
their host slipped into this closet a little cask that contained 
some broken ice, and two bottles of soda-water. 

" If you would only drink something, Mr. Raymond," he 
said, " we would put some champagne in there instead, that 
would make your eyes shine ; but it's no use asking you." 

" Not a bit," replied Richard, laughing, as they were borne 
away. 

"Do you really never drink? I thought, till last night 




THE PALANQUIN. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 213 

at least, that it was only because you did not want to set me 
an example." 

Richard laughed heartily at this remark of Scott's ; for 
such an explanation had never occurred to him. But at last 
he answered, — 

"It is a little over ten years since I have tasted a drop 
of any kind of wine or ale or liquor stronger than soda-water 
and lemonade." 

" I thought people had to in this country," said Scott. 
"They say the water is very unhealthy, and that the heat is 
much more dangerous, unless one protects his constitution 
with stimulants." 

" You heard some old toper say that," responded Richard, 
smiling. 

" It was the captain of the steamer," returned Scott. 

" Well, it is the sentiment of a great many ; and possibly 
the water does not agree with all. Where it is not good, I do 
not drink it ; but it does not necessitate my drinking intoxi- 
cating liquor. And, as for bracing up the constitution, I am 
very sure that ten Englishmen in India have to leave the 
country, broken down with over-drinking, to one that is broken 
down with the heat alone." 

"But in emergencies you would drink, wouldn't you?" 
asked Scott doubtfully. 

"Oh, I'm no temperance preacher, Scott!" said Richard 
quickly. " I never signed a pledge ; I never talked on tem- 
perance in public ; and, as for cases of emergencies, why, 
that's the same as with every thing else. One had better be 
his own lawgiver. I've noticed that fellows that carried liquor 
with them when travelling, so as to have it in case of emer- 
gency, generally succeeded in getting up an emergency before 



214 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



they got to the end of the journey ; and those that did not 
have any very rarely needed it. I never take any with me, 
unless I am going far up into the mountains, or a long way 
from any possibility of obtaining it. But look at those three 
fellows down there ! While we are talking temperance here, 
we are missing all the sights." 




BEING SHAVED. 



"What are they doing?" exclaimed Scott, as he saw the 
three men, — one sitting on his own heels, close against a low 
stone fence built out into a court ; while another bent over 
him, and a third was standing near, and talking with them. 
" Is the man hurt ? " 

" Not at all. He is only being shaved." 

"Shaved in the street?" 

" Yes, right there in the gutter, or anywhere else." 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 



215 



** But the fellow is at work on his forehead," said Scott. 

"The natives shave their heads and foreheads, and clip 
the eyebrows ; then the barber washes the face carefully, and 
cleans and pares the nails on both hands and feet. He can't 
afford a shop ; and, as the patrons often have no homes that 
he can go to, he attends to them where rent is the cheapest, 
which is right in the 
street." 

" He makes an all- 
over job of it, and no mis- 
take," said Scott. " But 
it must cost a fortune to 
be barbered like that." 

" Yes, that is the 
worst of it," replied Rich- 
ard solemnly. " It will 
cost that poor fellow 
nearly three cents." 

" Starvation ! " ex- 
claimed Scott. 

" Not at all," laughed 
Richard. " If he has three 
or four customers in the course of the day, the barber will be 
able to support a good-sized family, — say, three wives and 
ten children." 

Scott groaned. But a moment later his attention was 
attracted to another curious individual. 

"What sort of a fiend is that?" he asked. 

" A very welcome one, I can assure you," replied Richard. 

" Not with me," returned Scott decidedly. " He'd have 
hard work to make himself popular in my books. Look at 




THE POSTMAN. 



2i6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

that ugly coat, and that Httle round turban and big belt and 
little breeches and big" shoes, and that reg-ular base-ball club! 
And what a face ! No, sir ! I'll pass him every time." 

" But, my dear boy, that is a postman," repeated Richard 
with mock gravity ; for he knew how eagerly Scott was wait- 
ing their o-oinp- to Puna, where letters from America that 
crossed Europe had been forwarded to his home, before their 
arrival. 

"Ah!" said Scott, now watching him eagerly. "That 
makes a deal of difference. He's gotten up pretty well for a 
postman, after all. I wish he'd come round, and call on 
me. ' I should think our horses would get tired," he added, 
as the bearers of the palanquin, coming into a more open 
street, began to run at a rapid gait, passing several buggies 
that were going in the same direction, and shouting and laugh- 
ingf at the drivers. 

"They are so used to it, that they would keep it up almost 
all day. The only thing they would not do would be to carry 
us an inch, if they found that we had a lunch in that closet 
that had a ham-sandwich or a bit of pork in it." 

"I admire their taste!" exclaimed Scott. "They'll find 
no pork in my lunches." 

"The taste is all very well, but not the extent to which 
they carry it. If they were our oldest and most trusted ser- 
vants, and we were twenty miles from anywhere when they 
found it out, down would go the palki pole, and nothing 
would induce them to take it up again." 

"I'd throw away the pork if it came to a pinch," said 
Scott. 

" 'Twould do no good ; for the palki, once defiled, would 
be a long while in getting clean again. I once had a right 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 217 

troublesome native neighbor. A wealthy fellow owned a mis- 
erable hovel near my lawn. He did not fancy foreigners, and 
would not sell me the property, and would not turn out the 
tenant of the hut, though he was the vilest fellow imaginable. 
I tried every way to get him out, but in vain, till one day 
my butler, who was a Portuguese Christian from Goa, to do 
me a kindness I suppose, kept watch till the family had all 
gone out, and, stealing over there with a little pig he had 
secured for the purpose, he shut him up in the house. 
When the poor tenants came home, and discovered the pig, 
they turned about, and slept upon the ground outdoors, and 
in the morning left every thing just as it was, and went away 
forever. A year later the old owner sold me the property, 
for he could not either rent it or give it away to a native." 

" That beats the piggest stories I ever heard," said Scott, 
laughing. " But what is this that we are coming to ? " he asked, 
as the bearers, who had been running very rapidly, began to 
slacken their pace. 

They had gone quite beyond the city, and were in open 
and grass-grown and palm-shaded streets beyond Mazagon. 
Far in the distance they could see the highest turrets of 
Malabar Hill ; but it seemed as though they rose up out of 
a dense tropical jungle, instead of the heart of a great city. 
And close at hand, nestling in a little grove of almost im- 
pregnable green, lay a low Hindu temple, on the banks of 
a little lake. 

" This is the temple where your Bramhan spends his time 
just now," answered Richard. " You know we said we should 
call on him this morning, and thank him for putting you 
through last night." 

"That's an awfully pretty pond," observed Scott, as the 
bearers now came slowly up to the temple. 



2l8 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"It is the sacred tank, where they can bathe, if they wish, 
before going into the temple to worship." 

" It would be some fun going to church on a hot day, if 
you could have a swim thrown in without breaking Sunday," 
observed Scott, calculating on his estimates between the reli- 
gions of India and America. " Wonder if there are any fish 




A HINDU TEMPLE. 



in there ! " he added. But before Richard could warn him that 
it would not be precisely in order for a Christian to go fish- 
ing in one of those Hindu temple-tanks, the fat Bramhan 
was beside the palanquin, making very low bows. 

He did not attempt to assist them out of the palki, for 
there were too many humble Hindus looking on at that 
moment ; though, if Richard had chosen to tell of it, he could 
have spoken of more occasions than one when his good friend 



IN FA LAN Q UIN AND R O W-B OAT. 2 1 9 

had taken many a liberty : for the fat Bramhan was a very 
weak behever in the efficacy of what he professed ; and, in 
less than a year from that time, he gave up his office at 
the head of this picturesque little temple, though he had to 
sacrifice an independent fortune to do it, and went with Mr. 
Raymond to the American mission-station, to be baptized, 
and taught the Christian theology, preparatory to becoming 
the exemplary and humble Christian minister that he is to- 
day. 

" I knew you would come ! " he exclaimed eagerly ; " for 
no one ever spoke the truth who said that Raymondrao Sahib 
once broke his word. Come into the temple. I have a place 
saved for you in the outer court. I have a great treat for 
you. The beautiful Princess Nuna, the wonderful and cele- 
brated Bramhan girl (whose mother Nuna was born to the 
noble Shastri Vias, and adopted by the Bramhan family of 
Yadaba, the rulers of Chandrapur, in the Deccan, and who 
is now the wife of the ruler), — this her remarkable daughter 
has been given to the temple service as sacrifice, and is the 
most beautiful dancer out of the paradise of Indra. She was 
in Bombay for last night ; and, knowing you would be here 
to-day, I secured her to dance in the temple. Come quickly," 
he added, " for she is already dancing." 

They followed him to the outer court and the position 
that he had kindly reserved for them, where they obtained a 
fine view of the figure, upon which all eyes were fixed, — a 
graceful young girl alone in the centre of the temple, with 
a bright-colored scarf, and gracefully trailing drapery, a few 
bright jewels flashing in her ears and about her neck (but 
less than most Hindu women wore), while her long, glossy 
black hair hung in light waves far below her waist. She was 



220 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



softly moaning a weird melody, and slowly whirling about, 
and gracefully bending her body in time with the singing. 

It was not precisely what Scott had expected, but — 

" It is beautiful, beautiful ! " he whispered. 

"Yes," replied Mr. Raymond, "just here it is certainly 
beautiful ; but the murli dancing and the common nautch 




III I I il |l I II II 



aiii|ii'ii!i!!!|l!||| 
-iiilll 






^ 



Wi~ 




-=J 



THE MUSICIANS. 



have been disgraced and degraded by the English in India, 
till they have lost the charms they once possessed, even for 
the Hindus ; and, like all the other erand institutions of an- 
tiquity, they are rapidly becoming demoralized." 

Sitting beside the altar, ready to take up the service when 
Nuna should have finished, were three or four other dancers of 
less celebrity, with their two musicians ; but Nuna sang without 
even a native accompaniment. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 221 

" What has that old fellow got in his hands ? " asked Scott, 
looking at one of the musicians, who had just risen to his 
feet as Nuna began to retreat, and was softly fingering the 
strings of his instrument. 

" Which one do you mean ? " questioned Richard. 

"Why, the fellow that has the floor now," replied Scott. 

" Oh ! that is what they call a saringi. It is the model 
of the first violin that was ever made ; for there, again, in 
spite of all that people say to the contrary, India led the 
world." 

Just outside the temple, as they again prepared to enter 
the palanquin, Scott noticed a curious group of ragged men, 
two of them sitting on a sort of portable bed with their eyes 
shut, one of them counting a string of beads, while two stood 
up at the end of the bed. No two had costumes exactly 
alike, but they were all as dirty as could well be. 

"The wind would blow it off, if they got any more dirt 
on them. What are they anyway } " asked Scott. 

" Beggars," replied Richard dryly, as he tossed a coin 
upon the bed. 

"They look like turtles basking in the sun," said Scott. 
" They don't seem very miserable." 

" No, indeed ! they are having a good time," said Mr. Ray- 
mond. " It is only a profession in India. There is no dis- 
grace in it." 

" Can any one be a beggar who wants to?" Scott asked, 

Richard shrugged his shoulders. " I don't imagine one 
would have to try very hard ; but the general claim is, that 
to pass the examination, and receive a diploma as a competent 
beggar, one must either have the right of birth (that is, his 
father and mother must have belonged to the class before 



222 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



him), or he must be a superannuated rehgious official, who is 
unable to support himself at the altar. But they stretch that 
a good deal, I fancy." 

At a little distance down the road, they passed a small 
open square, where a dozen or more children were drawn up 
in line, and gravely saluted them as they went by. 

" What Is the matter there ? " asked Scott. 




SCHOOLBOYS SALUTING. 



" The two men behind are teachers, and the boys are 
scholars of a private school," replied Mr. Raymond. 

"A pretty set of scholars!" observed Scott. "There's not 
one of them a dozen years old." 

"That may all be," returned Richard. "But I'll venture, 
there are not three among them that cannot repeat the mul- 
tiplication-table up to twenty times twenty without a mistake, 
and as fast as their tongues will run." 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 



22' 



" Are there no larger schools than that ? " Scott asked, as 
they passed out of sight. 

" Oh, yes, indeed ! any number of them ; and smaller 
ones too, where a few of the children of the wealthy are 
educated by a priest. They send the little fellows while they 
are very young ; for they have a deal to learn, and but little 
time to learn it in. Many of the boys are married before 





UNDER A PEIEST. 



they are as old as you are ; and the Hindu girls are married 
before they are ten, and sometimes even in infancy." 

"Were there any girls in that crowd?" Scott asked. 

"The girls don't often go to school in India, Scott. They 
are educated at home, in the branches that become a wife, 
as they suppose ; and reading and writing are not fashionable 
for the women. They do not consider them lady-like accom- 
plishments." 



124 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" I remember hearing mother talk about that," said Scott. 
" Mother's a great woman on the mission among the women 
and girls of India. But the missions have schools for girls, 
haven't they ? " 

" There are several large mission-schools for both boys 
and girls, and Sunday schools beside, where they are taught. 
If you like, we'll go to the mission services to-morrow." 

" I should like it above all things ! " exclaimed Scott. 
"And 1 must take notes on every thing, if it is proper; for 
I promised my pastor that I'd write him a letter about the 
foreign missionaries and their work. He's a little wild on 
the subject. It'll seem like ' The Missionary Herald,' won't 
it? But I can't help that, I think I can do it, if I keep 
my eyes open." 

They started again at a rapid pace for the hotel ; for it 
was approaching noon, and the excursion to the caves of 
Elephanta takes more than half a day, unless every thing is 
favorable. 

"That Reverend Ka — Ka — whatever his name is, is a very 
obliging man," said Scott. 

" Last night and this morning he has given you a chance 
to see the religious caste of Hindu women to the very best 
advantage. What do you think of them ? " inquired Richard. 

"Why, they're not bad-looking — females, when they're in 
full dress," Scott answered, hesitating as to whether he should 
call them girls or women, they were all so very small. " But 
I think it's more the fancy way they have of getting them- 
selves up, and the very graceful motions, that make them 
seem pretty. When I get home I am going to rig Bess up 
something like this style. I think she'd make a stunning 
little Hindu. She has an awfully pretty way of walking, that 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 225 

ain't a bit like other girls that go bumping along like jump- 
ing-jacks. She moves all over, and nowhere in particular, 
just as these women do," 

"Then, you don't like the Hindu faces?" asked Richard. 

"The face is all right," replied Scott; "but they spoil 
it making so many holes in it. See that woman, now ! " he 
exclaimed, pointing to a daintily dressed Bramhan woman 
going by. She had an unusual number of ornaments for one 
who is walking in the street, and proved a good example 
for Scott. "If she were my sister or my mother, I should 
want to kiss her sometimes, but ugh ! Think of having to 
get round all that stuff before I could find her lips. Do 
they ever kiss in India?" 

" I suppose they would take those nose-rings off, if they 
were going to make a real business of it," said Richard. 

"There's a pretty costume ! " exclaimed Scott, pointing out 
a woman with a snow-white sari, or Hindu shawl, thrown 
about her. 

" She is perhaps in mourning," replied Mr. Raymond. 

"White for mourning?" queried Scott. "What in the 
world is that for ? Don't they know what is right ? " 

"Why do people in America wear black, Scott?" 

" Why, because it is solemn." 

"What makes it solemn?" 

" Because it's mourning, I suppose," said Scott, laughing. 
" Didn't you say this was a temple ? " he said to Mr. Ray- 
mond, as he stood that afternoon in the main gallery of the 
caves of Elephanta, with its corridors and arches, a hundred 
and thirty feet square. 

"Yes, this is a temple. Many claim, that, ages ago, the 
Jains started it. It was literally excavated out of the mountain- 



226 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



side. Do you see, the floor and the pillars and caps and 
the arched roof are all of one single block of stone ? And 
do you see that figure of Bramha there, behind the bas-relief 
of Siva? That is the marriage of Siva and the goddess 
Parvati ; and that figure of Bramha, you see, has three heads. 




CAVES OF ELEPHANTA. 



If the Jain theory be true, it is one of the earliest records in 
the world, of any idea of a Trinity, or, perhaps better, a triad." 

" How do they know that it is a marriage, if it was made 
so long ago ? " inquired Scott. 

" Simply because Parvati is standing upon the right hand 
of Siva ; and no woman is allowed to stand upon the right 
hand of her husband, except during the marriage ceremony." 

" They must have enjoyed picking as much as we do 
whittling, to have dug out all this/' observed Scott, looking 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 227 

about him. " It's a big thing-, but I wouldn't give a cent for 
it as a church. Did you ever attend a service here ? " 

" Just one," repHed Richard ; " but not the kind of one you 
mean. I attended the dinner given to the Prince of Wales 
here a little while ago." 




MAS,£IAaE OF SIVA. 



Scott drew a long breath. '* Did they dinner that fellow 
here?" he asked, and, turning with a sigh, added, "I must 
make a note of that," and demurely walked out of the old 
temple. 

At the ledge entrance, however, his gravity was somewhat 
shaken by looking up suddenly, to face one of the most 
peculiar specimens that had ever crossed his path. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " he groaned, and sat down on the 
low stone walh 



228 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Richard looked at the object that had caused the shock, 
and then, with mock anxiety, he asked, — 

"My dear young friend, what is it that perplexes you?" 

" What in the world 
was that ? " asked Scott, 
helplessly pointing after 
the figure that had now 
nearly disappeared. 

" A man," replied 
Mr. Raymond quietly. 

" But, merciful sakes, 
what a man ! " groaned 
Scott. " It was a walk- 
inor skeleton." 

" Just about as near 
it as one could come 
without hitting," replied 
Richard. "But you 
would be astonished to 
find out how far from a 
skeleton that fellow is in 
strength." 

His skin was very 
dark, and- it certainly 
looked as though there 
was nothing under it but 
bones ; and over the 
joints where it must bend occasionally, it lay in dry, leathery 
folds, 

" He looked for all the world like a rhinoceros," said Scott. 
The man had nothing on but a dirty cloth about the loins, 




A KATWADI. 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 229 

and another twisted once round his head, leaving a mass of 
absokitely uncombed hair above it and below it. The hair 
was black at the roots, but dyed red at the ends. 

" He is a full-blooded muni, — one of the kind that you have 
probably read about, who sometimes have held up an arm till it 
became stiff in that position, and could never come down again; 
who hung themselves up by iron hooks thrust through their 
muscles. They will lie down, and apparently die, and remain 
so for a month and more, with their flesh cold and hard, and 
their joints stiff. The heart will stop beating, for all that the 
most elaborate medical instruments can determine, and there 
is no observable breathing. But, when the time is up, they 
wake up, and go about their business. There are munis, too, 
who have fasted for forty-five days." 

" You don't mean gone absolutely without any thing to 
eat ! " exclaimed Scott, interrupting him. 

" Yes, I mean exactly that." 

" Well, I should almost think that man had just been doing 
it," said Scott, " But what was that painting on his bony 
chest ? " 

" That represented the two great principals of Hindu 
theology, — the Preserver and Destroyer." 

" I thought there were three principals. Is it fair to be 
partial to the two, and leave out the Creator ? " asked Scott. 

" Bramha, the creator, is rarely worshipped or represented 
alone. There is no idol of Bramha in all India, and no prayer 
is ever offered to him. He is supposed to have no . form, 
except when a part of the trinity, as you saw the three- 
headed god in the cave. He is in every thing, and every 
thing is Bramha." 

" I should think they would be careful, then, how they 



230 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

handle things in general," said Scott, as they walked on toward 
the boat that was awaiting them, to take them back to Bom- 
bay. 

" You think just right, Scott. Even my little boy Moro 
will not so much as tread upon a bug in the street, no matter 
how much trouble it costs him to prevent it. They will not 
eat meat for that reason," 

"Are all munis like that fellow at the caves?" Scott asked, 
as they stepped again upon the wharf in Bombay. 

"Not by any means," answered Mr. Raymond. "They 
are of all varieties, from the gentlemanly soldier to such a 
vagabond as this one. Why, one of the fiercest leaders of 
the mutiny, one of the strongest soldiers of that Sepoy rebel- 
lion, was Dhondaram, a muni ; and to-day he is an outlaw, 
for whom England offers ten thousand dollars. We have plenty 
of time, and on the way to the hotel we will drive round to 
the Hindu temple by the Byculla. You can see any number 
of them there. It is the great camping-ground for the munis 
that come on to the island in the course of their pilgrim- 
ages," 

Mr. Raymond directed the driver of a buggy they engaged, 
and, seating himself, continued, — 

" They are forever moving. They make tremendous pil- 
grimages. They never do a day's work, but they harden 
themselves to wonderful endurance. They torture and deform 
themselves, on the principle that suffering is meritorious, and 
then go about, and allow the public to support them, showing 
their marks as credentials, I saw a muni once, measuring the 
entire distance across India, from one side to the other, by 
lying down, and stretching his hands as far before him as 
possible, and making a mark with his fingers. Then, putting 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 



231 



his toes to that mark, he would He down again ; and so on 
for the fourteen hundred miles." 

Scott whistled, and stretched himself a little more com- 
fortably in the buggy. 

" It makes my back ache," he remarked with a sigh. 

" Look there ! " added Mr. Raymond, pointing to a group 




^K^^ 




WANDERING MUNIS. 



of men in various costumes, resting about the roots and trunk 
of an old tree in the open parade-ground. " Those are munis, 
and they are not bad-looking fellows." 

"They're a bad lot!" said Scott with a shiver, — "worse 
than our gypsies, I believe. But do they bruise themselves 
that way just to make begging pay?" 

" They pretend that they do it for religion," ^replied his 
friend. " And I fancy a good deal of it is for the attention 



232 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

and glory they get. They very often make an oath of silence 
for some number of years, and refuse to speak a word, or 
pay any attention to any one, in that time. Some of them 
used to have a trick of going round stark naked, pretending 
that they were too holy for clothes ; but the English Govern- 
ment has been arresting them lately for it, and now they are 
more careful." 

"They must like something or other about it more than 
I do," remarked Scott. 

"Well, here is an example; and you can judge for your- 
self what the fellow liked. There is a muni in North India, 
who, a few years ago, had gone through every manner of 
self-torture that he could hear of or invent. His name was 
so great, that he would draw dense crowds after him where- 
ever he went. At last, to get up something new, he had a 
chair made, so that, as he sat in it, every part of his body 
would touch only on the points of nails; and in this chair he 
was carried about the country. A wealthy Hindu, who wanted 
to make atonement for his sins, and lay up a large balance 
in heaven, offered this muni a beautiful house and large gar- 
den, and agreed to pay all the bills that he would contract 
for his personal support, so long as he would live there. 
The muni accepted, and spent three months in the most 
luxurious seclusion. But that was all he could stand of it. 
He gave back the house, gave up the support, ordered his 
chair of nails and his bearers, and at once started upon a 
tour of the whole of India." 

Just then the buggy stopped at the temple-gate ; and, 
going into the court, they saw, as Richard had predicted, a 
most remarkable array of the holy men, in all attitudes, pre- 
paring their suppers, eating, smoking, drinking even, and 



IN PALANQUIN AND ROW-BOAT. 233 

sleeping. Some of them were as nearly naked as they dared 
to be. Some were covered with rags in an almost unlimited 
quantity. Some had gashes and scars all over them, and all 
sorts of deformities, and some were satisfied with fantastic 
painting. 

"What a place this would be to turn P. T. Barnum into ! " 
exclaimed Scott. " Wouldn't he have fun picking out speci- 
mens ? " 

They only stopped for a moment, for it was growing late; 
and in a short time they were seated at the supper-table, with 
Moro and Sayad behind them, and ravenous appetites urging 
them on. 

"I believe I could eat Esofali's French cooking with carda- 
mom-seed sauce to-night," Scott remarked ; " and the cook 
into the bargain." 

" You'd have to shut your eyes before you began on the 
cook, or you would never digest him, if he is any thing like 
the rest of the cooks of India," returned Richard, laughing. 



234 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



CHAPTER XV. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



1 


1 


1 



HE result of the Sunday among the mission churches 
and Sunday schools Scott reported to his pastor in 
the following letter, not re-written a dozen times, try- 
ing to make it falsely grand, but the result of notes, 
taken during the day, on what he thought his pastor wanted : — 

" The mission chapel of the American mission among the 
Marathis in Bombay is situated in one of the busiest districts of 
the city. Along the street it fronts upon, there pours an incessant 
stream of Hindus of all castes, — Mussulmans of different sects, Par- 
sis with their ugly hats, Jews of more than one tribe, Chinese with 
their pig-tails, Africans, and Europeans. The Christian service is 
conducted much as it is in our own church, only the congregation 
looks very funny. The church numbers about sixty-five members, 
and has a native pastor of Bramhan birth. 

" The Sunday school meets at nine in the morning. There are 
about two hundred scholars. Most of the children are native Chris- 
tians ; but there are some Hindus, too, who go to the day-schools 
of the mission. They use the same ' International ' series that we 
use at home. 

" The language, both in church and Sunday school, is the Mara- 
thi. It sounds very funny to hear the children singing, both their 
music and poetry are arranged so differently from ours. At first 
th'ey had to translate our hymns, and set them again to our music, 
and now there are many of these in use ; but I can imagine how 
odd the arrangement must have seemed from the way that theirs 



■ A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 235 

strikes me. Some years ago, however, a young man was converted 
who had great talent in writing poetry, and understood music thor- 
oughly. So he began writing Christian hymns, and setting them to 
Marathi metres. They are liked very much by the native Christians, 
and even people outside like them very much too. The superin- 
tendent in the Sunday school had them sing ' Come to Jesus ' for me, 
first to the old music, that almost made me cry, it was so much 
like something from home : then they sang one of Sankey's pieces ; 
but they did not do that so well. Then they sang some of their 
own poet's work. 

"The classes went on just as we do; but some of the scholars 
were almost naked, and did not seem to have cultivated a very in- 
timate acquaintance with soap and water. They were the Hindu 
children, — pupils of the day-schools. Their teachers go out on 
Sunday morning, and collect them, and bring them in. Otherwise, 
perhaps, they would not come at all ; for they are very careless about 
time, and, even if they wanted to come, they would most likely be 
a half-hour or so late. 

" The preaching is at four in the afternoon ; then at five the 
missionaries and native teachers go out into the broad porch of the 
church, and there they sing for a few minutes, and then begin to 
talk to any who will stop and listen. They are very often inter- 
rupted by people with absurd questions, who only want to break up 
the meeting, and raise a laugh. Then they sometimes preach in 
the open air, and sometimes even in English. 

"At one place in Bombay the missionaries began preaching in 
the street, near where there was a large public school, and just about 
as the school was to be dismissed. It was found that the boys would 
listen for about twenty minutes, and then begin to make such a 
noise that it was impossible to go on. Once a missionary asked if 
there was any one there who understood English. ' Yes, sir : I do,' 
resounded from different parts. 'Very well,' said the missionary: 
'if you will keep quiet, I will talk to you in English.' — 'All right, 
sir ! Go ahead, sir ! ' they shouted ; and he preached there in Eng- 



236 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



lish once a week for several months. They were tolerably well be- 
haved and quiet. 

" The missionaries tell a host of interesting stories. The Bram- 
han pastor I spoke of, while he was a rigid Hindu, was hired to 
teach in the mission-school. He taught because he received pay for 
it ; but he hated the Christian books, till at last he broke down, and 
himself became the very good Christian minister that he is to-day. 

" One day an old robber and murderer came into church when 
the missionary was talking on, ' The blood of Jesus Christ his Son 
cleanseth us from all sin.' After the service he came up, and timidly 
asked if that blood could cleanse from the sin of a murder. And 
when the missionary said 'Yes,' he went on, 'Of five murders .■' Of 
ten .'' Of twenty.''' And on the spot he gave himself to God, and 
lived and died a good, honest Christian. 

" The number of Christians has doubled in India in the past 
ten years ; and a missionary told me, that, if the same rate were kept 
up that has been going on from 1861 to 1871, India would be a 
Christian nation in less than a century, but that, instead of going 
on at the same rate, the rate itself is constantly increasing. 

" I'm afraid this is not a complete letter ; but you know I have 
only been here one Sunday, and a few days beside ; and oh, there 
is such a wonderful world to see, that I am thoroughly bewildered, 
and hardly seem to know any thing ! " 

"Mercy!" Scott gasped, when he had finished. "I feel 
like a missionary myself. I wonder if he will think I have 
been putting on airs ! I hope not ; but I've been using some 
long words, and stating facts like a newspaper." 

He folded the letter, and, after directing the envelope, 
put it in, and was in the act of wetting the stamp on his 
tongue, when Richard stopped him. 

" If you do that, you'll have to take it to the office your- 
self, Scott ; for the boy thinks that saliva makes it unclean, 
and that he would defile himself to touch it." 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



237 



Scott laughed, and wet the stamp with water. 

Early Monday morning they were on their way southward 
into the mountains, and the cool, bracing air of Puna, The 
moment the cars started there was immediate relief; for the 
first-class carriages of the English trains in India have been 
made expressly to combat the heat, which is sometimes in- 
tolerable, especially when running through the dry and open 
sand-plains. 

It was an endless deliofht to Scott to sit in the window, 
that was shaded from the sun by a wooden awning, and watch 
the constantly changing view. Sometimes they were dashing 
past old ruins, draped in parasitic vines, and sometimes beau- 
tiful hillsides lay about them, without a sign of human life. 

"How many people did you say there were in India?" 
asked Scott. 

" About two hundred and fifty million, — more than in all 
Europe and Siberia," replied Mr. Raymond. 

'* There's a good deal of vacant land, after all," remarked 
Scott. 

" On these mountain-sides, yes, except as they use it for 
pasturage and hunting ; but there are also broad plains to 
the north that support over seven hundred and fifty souls 
to the square mile, which is the largest average population in 
the world," 

" Well, there are two things that I don't understand about 
India," said Scott reflectively. 

" You are doing better than most, if there are only two," 
replied Richard, laughing. "But what are they?" 

"Well, why do the women color their teeth and finger- 
nails, and what makes the butter so white ? " Scott answered 
abruptly. 



238 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" One is because they want to, and the other Is because 
they can't help It," replied Richard solemnly. 

"Well, which is which?" asked Scott. 

" They color their finger-nails and their toe-nails with red 
dye, chiefly because it is the fashion ; and some of the women, 
but not all by any means, stain their teeth black when they 
are married, professedly because they say they do not wish 
to attract the attention of any other men : so they miake 
themselves look ugly." 

"I hope they succeed," observed Scott emphatically. 

"They might," replied Richard, "but that so many do it, 
that the men become used to it, and think them just as pretty 
that way as any other. But in the case of the butter, that 
is so white, because it is made of BufTaloes' milk, as there are 
very few cows in India." 

" I thought it was lard at first, and I did not eat any till 
after we went to Esofall's ; and his was so much worse, that 
it made the hotel butter seem very fair." 

" If you had tasted the butter at Esofali's, you would not 
have thought it bad. It was not our butter at all, but ghi, 
or clarified butter, that we had there, — a preparation made 
of the milk itself, instead of cream, that the natives are very 
fond of; and I quite agree with them." 

" Perhaps I shall some day," thought Scott doubtfully. 

It was night when they reached Puna ; and Scott had 
little opportunity to see the beautiful, and at the same time 
miserable, mountain city. Mr. Raymond's large coach and 
two fiery horses were at the station, waiting to hurry them 
away as soon as the servants could finish falling on their 
faces, and kissing their master's feet. But Scott kept his 
eyes open, and saw all that there was to see. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



239 



" Look there ! " he exclaimed, as a weird group appeared 
In the hght. of a torch held by one of the Hindus. " Is that 
a new-fangled bathing-tank, or is it only a moving drinking- 
fountain ? " 

. " A litde of both, and not exactly either," replied Richard. 
" That is the house of a Bramhan ; and those fellows are 




A BRAMHAN AND PILGRIMS. 



pilgrims, who thought it best to stop on their way, wherever 
they are going, to get a touch of holy water ; quenching 
their thirst, and washing their sins away, and washing their 
hands and faces, all at the same time. They have made up 
a small purse for the Bramhan ; and, while his servant holds 
the torch, he is administering the blessing." 

"Would he give me a dose, if I should go up there?" 
asked Scott. 



240 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Go Up and try," replied Richard, ordering his coachman 
to stop. 

"I beUeve I'd rather be excused," said Scott ; but, seeing 
Mr. Raymond laughing at him, he changed his mind, and, 
getting out of the carriage, made his way up to the platform 
upon which the priest stood. 

Seeing a white person approaching, the crowd of pilgrims 
fell back in horror, lest they should be defiled while engaged 
in their ablutions. Scott hesitated for a moment, for the face 
of the Bramhan was not so re-assuring as that of Kashi- 
nath had been : but, gathering his courage, he went up as 
he had seen the native ; and, laying a piece of silver on the 
platform, he knelt, and put his hands to his mouth in the 
form of a cup. 

The priest looked at him in astonishment for a moment ; 
then, seeing only the half-laughing face of a boy, he simply 
smiled at the presumption, and deliberately emptied the entire 
contents of the kuja all over him. 

" You wretch ! " gasped Scott ; and for an instant he was 
on the point of flying at the Bramhan, holy as he was, with 
his clinched fists. But his eye caught the piece of silver he 
had laid on the platform ; and, thinking his own coin the best 
to pay him in, he picked it up, and, with a shout, ran away. 

The Bramhan only laughed over the joke; and, dripping 
with water, Scott crawled back into the carriage again, where 
he found Richard also convulsed with laughter. 

" I came within an inch of breaking his neck," he said 
defiantly. " And I almost wish I had." 

" It was a little better not to, under the circumstances," 
replied Richard ; " for the person of a Bramhan is very sacred, 
and I fear your wanderings in India would have come to a 
speedy close." 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 241 

" Is a Bramhan so much better than any one else ? " asked 
Scott. 

" Decidedly," said Richard without hesitation. " Any one 
who strikes a Bramhan is sure to become a hog as soon as 
he dies." 

" Sooner be a hog than a Bramhan, any day," muttered 
Scott sullenly ; for his wet clothes were very uncomfortable. 
" I suppose those fellows are so very holy, that they never do 
any thing wrong themselves," he added, as the horses started 
again. 

"That is precisely the case," said Richard. " They are so 
holy, that they do about as they please. Sin runs off from 
them like water from a duck's back. What would defile any 
other caste in India will really do them no harm at all. At 
any rate, the people believe so ; and that is all that is 
wanted." 

" They're a good-for-nothing set anyway," Scott grumbled. 

" You're mistaken there, Scott," said Richard ; " for, really, 
they have been the sharpest and most profound scholars in the 
world. If they were not held back by their bigotry, we should 
see wonderful things in science accomplished by them. It is 
to these Bramhans that India is indebted for all her profound 
knowledge ages ago. They are very sharp and shrewd, many 
of them ; and a missionary almost dreads seeing them come 
in to his meetings." 

" Do they attend Christian churches ? " exclaimed Scott, 
again becoming interested. 

" Certainly they do, and some of them are very constant 
attendants." 

" I should think they would be afraid of being converted." 

" On the contrary, many of them enjoy it ; and there are 



242 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

some Bramhans who know almost as much about the Bible 
as a good many Christians. They are very fond of getting 
into arguments, too, after the services are ended. I was once 
at a mission sermon, where the text was " Faith." The mis- 
sionary had been very earnest ; and a fine-faced Bramhan, who 
had listened intently through it all, rose as soon as the bene- 
diction was pronounced, and, in the politest way, asked if he 
might say a word upon the sermon. I saw the missionary 
looked very sober ; but as every one stopped, and appeared 
in no hurry to go out, he could find no excuse, and had to 
give the permission. 

"'Faith is very good,' said the Bramhan; 'but no faith is 
better. See how the monkey carries her young. She does 
not trouble herself to touch them. They cling about her 
neck with a death grip. She could not even shake them off 
if she tried. She can go where she will with them. That is 
faith. You are the little monkey. But see how the cat 
carries her little ones. She takes them tenderly in her 
mouth. She does not hurt them, or drop them. They are 
perfectly safe, and have nothing to do but let her carry them. 
That is no faith. That is better. I am the kitten.' " 

" That was a sticker, sure," said Scott, somewhat down- 
cast to see any thing that in any way belonged to him trodden 
on. "What could the parson say to that?" 

" He got out of it better than I thought. He grew red 
in the face, as the audience applauded the Bramhan, and he 
saw all his earnestness worse than lost ; but suddenly a happy 
thought struck him, and very quietly he said, ' O Bramhan, 
you are very wise. You should not defame yourself in that 
way. There are idiots and helpless fellows that have no 
strength, and must be carried ; and, thank God, there are cats. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 243 

to carry them ! But there are also strong, brave, and able 
men, who do not need to be pushed through the world, but 
can cling for themselves. You, my friend, are brave enough 
and strong enough to be something more than a helpless 
kitten.' " 

" Good one ! " cried Scott. " I can see that old Bramhan 
going out with his tail between his legs." 

" And so can I," returned Richard, laughing. 

" And so there are monkeys here too, are there ? I had 
not seen any, and had forgotten my geography. I meant to 
ask you." 

"There are a few," replied Richard very gravely. 

"Only a few?" repeated Scott with a sigh. "I was in 
hopes we should see them as thick as they are in story- 
books." 

" A few million, I mean, or probably a few hundred mil- 
lion would be nearer right," replied Richard. "They are very 
sacred animals here, and run about the cities even, and do 
as they please everywhere, and even have temples erected 
for their especial benefit, where they are boarded free of 
charge. You will see one if we go to Benares." 

" It must be fun," said Scott. 

"It is fun for a time, but you will soon have too much 
of It. They are as troublesome as the squirrels in Beverly. 
A friend of mine, a European physician, was particularly well 
patronized by the wretches. They would come into his win- 
dows every time they were left open. They would eat up 
every thing that was eatable, and spoil what was not." 

"Why didn't he kill them?" asked Scott. 

" He had too many native servants, who would have re- 
ported it, and won him the ill will of the natives. But he 



244 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



took a better way. There was one big monkey In particular, 
who was the most famihar. He would sit on the limb of a 
huge tree, just outside the doctor's office-window. He would 




THE DOCTOK'S PATIENT. 



contentedly scratch himself, and watch all that was going on ; 
and if any thing was left on a plate, and the room was 
vacated for a moment, it was sure to be gone. One morning 
the doctor saw the monkey watching, and quietly emptied a 
large bottle of Brandeth's liver-pills on to the plate. He 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 245 

pretended to eat some of them, and then went out. The 
monkey watched him drive away as usual ; and a half-hour 
later, when the doctor came back, the plate was entirely 
empty. He lived there for three years after that, and told 
me that he never again knew of a monkey coming into the 
house." 

" Good enough ! " exclaimed Scott, laughing. " But I don't 
suppose there is really any danger from them, is there ? 
They would never hurt any one." 

"That depends," replied Richard. "When there are a 
lot of them together, or when they are offended at something, 
they will sometimes attack a man. When I was seventeen 
years old, I was employed on one of the surveys for a rail- 
road in India. It was a very rough life that we led, with a 
guard of English soldiers to protect us ; and we had to go 
well armed ourselves, for there were many attacks from wild 
beasts, as well as offended natives. We did not mind much 
about dress, and were rather ragged before we had finished 
our work. All we cared for was to protect our heads from 
the sun. After the day's work was done, the youngest of 
us used to make raids, contrary to the officers' orders, in 
search of cocoanuts and other fruit. I was out on an expe- 
dition once, with a large mastiff belonging to one of the 
officers. He was an ugly fellow, but was very fond of me. 
I saw three elegant cocoanuts lying on the ground, just in 
the edge of a jungle. The dog would have made a fuss if 
there had been a tiger round, so I felt safe enough in mak- 
ing a dive for them ; but I had no sooner made the leap, 
than all of a sudden it seemed as though a dozen packs of 
fire-crackers were all set off at once, all about me, and I 
found myself literally surrounded by a host of monkeys. I 



246 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



don't imagine they would have hurt me, but that ' Spit,' the 
dog, was mad that he was taken off his guard, and snapped 

at the tail of 
one of them. 
He grave a howl, 
and instantly the 
whole lot were 
upon us. I had 
X^ my clearing-axe 
in my hand, but 
it was absolutely 
all I could do to 
keep it swinging 
rieht and left 
among them ; for 
they even caught 
my arm, and held 
my feet so that 
I could not 
move, and clung 
about my waist, 
where I could 
not touch them ; 
and they could 
very easily have 
eot the best of 
me, but that Spit 
used his teeth with a vengeance; and the cries of pain from the 
wounded frightened the rest, and they began to draw back a 
little into the trees." 

"Did you get your cocoanuts?" asked Scott. 




ALL FOE THREE COCOANUTS. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



247 



" Yes, I got my cocoanuts. I thought I had earned them, 
and I would not go back without them. But you may be 
sure that when I had them safe in my arms, I made good 
time out of the jungle," 

Just then the carriage whirled into a grove, through two 
high gate-posts ; and the rattle of wheels was lost on the soft, 
yielding roadway. 

" Here we are at last!" exclaimed Richard, as they drew 
up before a massive veranda of heavy stone pillars and stucco 
arches, and a smooth, stone floor, with a broad, curtained 
door at the back, and two deep windows. 

There were a dozen servants standing by the veranda to 
welcome Mr. Raymond, and two colored lanterns were hung 
in the porch. 

" This is a grand old spot ! " Scott exclaimed enthusias- 
tically, as he alighted. 

" It was the home of a wealthy Mussulman once," replied 
Richard, in a voice that caused Scott to look up suddenly ; 
and he thought he detected tears in Mr. Raymond's eyes as 
he welconied his home and his old servants again : so he at 
once turned away, and walked slowly down the veranda. 

Early in the morning, after the chotct hazri that Richard 
had spoken of, the two went out for a walk through the 
grove and garden. A more gorgeous spot Scott was sure he 
had never seen. 

" I don't wonder you love it ! " he cried. " But why have 
you never told me how beautiful your home was ? " 

" I am very glad if you like it," Richard replied, without 
answering the question. 

Just behind the house they came out upon a superb little 
lake. 



248 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 



Scott gave one cry of joy, and stood enraptured. 

All about the border drooped beautiful flowering shrubs. 
Just behind them rose trees with dense green foliage, filled 
with fruit such as Scott had never seen before, but often read 
of; and again behind them towered the long, slender trunks 
and bushy heads of the palm-trees. All this was reflected in 
the water ; but, as if that were not sufficient, the whole surface 
was dotted with brilliant aquatic leaves and blossoms, where, 
predominant, was the sacred tala, growing up from the coolest, 
deepest depths of the lake, a tiny green stem, till it reached 
the surface, then shooting heavenward its bright leaves, tint- 
ing the whole surface of the water. At one end of this lake 
was a flight of rough marble steps, all ivy-grown, leading 
down into the water. 

" Here is a fishing-pond, where you may drop your line 
as often as you like," said Richard, smiling at Scott's enthu- 
siasm. 

"A fishing-pond!" said Scott reprovingly. "Don't call a 
beautiful spot like that an old mud fishing-pond. What is it, 
Mr. Raymond?" 

"It is the marble-bedded tank that supplies the house 
and the servants' huts with water. It is the salvation of 
crowded India, that all the natives but the vilest of the breed 
of fakirs, and a few in the mountains, are forever bathing. 
They will never even eat in the morning till they have bathed 
certain parts of their bodies. If I were a native, now, I should 
call this a sacred tulao ; but, being only a Christian (as they 
say), I can only call it my water-tank." 

" It's pretty enough either way," said Scott. " But I should 
say the natives have the best of you there. A tank makes 
a fellow think of an old attic and musty water." 



250 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Extending back from the house, on either side of this 
tank, were the huts of the servants ; for none of them ever 
sleep in the house of the master. They have famihes of their 
own ; and, except as they may steal more or less from the 
mansion, they support themselves and their families, both in 
food and clothes, out of their earnings. 

" It must be rather expensive, running a house with so 

many servants," 
Scott remarked, as 
they walked past 
the line of low huts, 
where the front wall 
was only a bam- 
boo matting, that 
through the day 
was drawn back, 
letting the sun- 
light literally stream 
through the whole 
house, in front of 
which extended a 
platform of smooth 
stone, on which a dozen naked little children were playing, 
and their mothers were cooking the breakfast or working. 

" It would be expensive in America," replied Richard ; 
" but here the servant costs almost nothing. Do you see that 
fellow on the bullock yonder, and the one beside him ? They 
are my bhistis, or water-carriers. The place is very large, so 
I have to have two; and those clumsy things on the animal's 
back are goat-skins, in which they are going to draw water 
at the tank. They carry all the water for the gardeners, and 




THE WATER-CARillERS. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 251 

all the water for the baths and the table and the cook. You 
noticed, perhaps, that the legs of all the tables and chairs in 
the house stood in little metal cups?" 

" I did, indeed," said Scott. " And it was only reading 
my letters from home that put it out of my head to ask what 
the matter was. You may think me pretty inquisitive." 

" That is one way to learn," replied Richard, smiling. 
" Another is, to go to college. But those cups the bhisti has 
to fill with water every morning. It keeps the white ants 
from getting into the furniture. If they once get in, they 
are as much worse than American moths as can be. They 
will literally eat up every thing, — the wood, the upholster- 
ing, the stuffing. They will grind it all to powder. Then 
the bhisti has to sprinkle the Kus-Kus mats before the doors 
and windows, through the dry weather, to keep the air in the 
house damp and cool. And all the poor fellows get for it is 
a dollar a week, to feed and clothe themselves and their 
families." 

" It doesn't cost him much to clothe the children," said 
Scott, looking at the ragged little dhuti that was twisted 
about the loins of the oldest child in sight, — a boy of about 
nine years, — while the rest of the entirely naked little 
fellows were playing in the sun. " But what's the use of 
having so many servants anyway ? " he added. 

"That is a matter of necessity," replied Richard. "From 
their mode of life, the Hindus have not the strength and 
endurance that we have, as a rule. Nationally they are a 
slow and lazy set : so it has come about that they have taken 
to doing just one thing, whatever that is ; and their children 
have grown up to do just that, and nothing else, till it is an 
actual division of religious caste with them ; and those who 



252 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



are born bhistis will die bhistis, and the boys that wait on 
us will do no other work. The cook will not wait on the 
table ; the little brooms, as we call the fellow that sweeps, will 
not wash our clothes ; and the dhobi, or washerman, will not 
cook, or do any thing else. He washes by beating the clothes 
unmercifully between two stones, in cold water ; and he tears 
them so every time, that we have to keep a tailor in our list 
of house servants." 

" Why doesn't he use a tub and scrubbing-board ? " asked 
Scott. 

" Oh ! his father and grandfather never did, and he says 
what was right for them is right for him." 

" But I would make him, if I wanted him to," said Scott. 

" You would have harder work than you think for. By a 
long struggle I have succeeded in introducing some of our 
notions, but it was almost more than they were worth." 

"Why was that?" 

" W^hy, because, the moment I suggested some new style, 
the servant would always object to it. He would think there 
was some evil in it, or would fear being defiled in some way. 
If I insisted, or brought it about in any way, by hiding his old 
implements, he would sometimes consent ; but if he hurt 
himself with the new thing, or if any thing happened to him 
or his family, — if one of his children fell sick, — he would 
instantly declare that it was because he had used it, and would 
leave my service." 

" I'd say ' Good riddance,' and get another," remarked Scott 
spitefully. 

"That's easier said than done, my boy. For he would 
instantly spread it among his friends and caste, charging all 
his sorrow to the infernal machine and to me ; and several 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



253 



times I have had to give it up, or send to Goa for Portu- 
guese Christians to come down and do the work." 

"What is that fellow doing?" Scott asked, as they passed 
one of the little huts, at some distance from the house, where 



.<v 



^ "SOiiL-^ 



-J'i- 







HE IS SACRIFICING TO HIS TOOLS. 



a native, with a plate of rice in his hands, was bowing before 
a low bench, upon which was a collection of curious tools 
and a wreath of flowers. 

"That is my carpenter," replied Mr. Raymond. "He is 
going to begin an addition to the stable to-day ; and, as it is 



254 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



a large undertaking, he is sacrificing to his tools, with an 
idea that they will do the work better for it." 

"What a fool!" muttered Scott. "I euess he'd find a 

'— -c^^vN- - littleelbow- 

^^liw^ S$^ grease would go 



a good deal 
farther." 

"I don't 
^ know," replied 
wyW"' Richard. "There 
are hosts of 
Christians who 
believe that the 
great ef^cacy of 
prayer is not so 
much in per- 
suading God to 
do one way or 
another, when 
he has already 
decreed the end 
from the begin- 
ning, as it is in 
putting the one 
who is praying 
both in sympathy with God, and in sympathy with what he 
is praying for." 

"Where are the stables?" asked Scott, who had a New- 
England boy's admiration for the horse and every thing per- 
taining to him. 

"Just around yonder corner," replied Mr. Raymond. "I 




THE COBEA AND MONGOOSE. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



255 



was on the way there ; for, thinking you might like a horse- 
back ride before it was too warm, I ordered the horses saddled." 
"Thank you! thank you! That'll be just the boss!" ex- 
claimed Scott, ,..^,=«.„„=^=^^^. 



starting eagerly 
toward the 
stable. 

On the way 
their attention 
was attracted by 
the Portuguese 
butler, who was 
leaning through 
the dense growth ^ 
at one side of ^ 
the path leading 
to the house. 

Creeping 




slowly up to 
him, they saw a 
little animal no 
larofer than a 
cat, and with a 
much more slen- 
der body, just in 
the act of killing 
a large snake. 

" Gracious! I should have bet on the snake every 
exclaimed Scott. " How in the world did that little 
ever do it ? " 

"It is a little mongoose'* replied Richard. " That 



■ SHE RECOGNIZES ME.' 



time I 
fellow 



IS 



the 



256 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

way he makes his Hving ; and, if it were not for him, these 
jungles would be uninhabitable, they would be so overrun 
with poisonous snakes." 

In the stable they found the scyce, or groom, just oiling 
the last hoof of a sleek, black mare. She looked eagerly 
forward, and neighed as Mr. Raymond entered. 

" She knows me," he said, going up to her, and patting 
her, and taking up one foot after another, while the scyce 
stood back, grinning, and happy to see his work examined 
and commended. 

" What was that place before each stall?" Scott asked, as 
they started. 

" It was where the scyce sleep. They never leave the 
horses while they are in the stall ; and, when the owner 
drives without the coachman, the scyce always runs beside the 
horse, — to hold him, or be on hand in case of accident." 

" But there was a place in front of each stall." 

" Yes. We have to have a different scyce for each horse, 
for their custom laws will allow them to take care of but one 
horse at a time." 

They did not ride far beyond Mr. Raymond's grounds, 
but they were extensive enough to have given them more 
than one morning's enjoyment. Just before them, through 
the entire drive, ran an ugly little spotted dog. 

" He doesn't belong to you, does he ?" Scott asked, seeing 
that Mr. Raymond noticed him watching the dog. 

Richard laughed. " He does, indeed ! and I am very proud 
of him. Don't you think him beautiful ? " 

" It might be something like Esofali's curry and cardimom- 
seed sauce. I might get used to him in time," replied Scott 
doubtfully. 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



257 



" He has saved my life more than once, and he may save 
yours this very day," said Richard solemnly. 

"That makes him look better right away. But how did 
it happen ? " asked Scott. " And am I in any particular 
danger ? " 

" None just now," returned Richard. " And the way that 
I know it, is that that ugly little dog is trotting along con- 
tentedly before us. He is cross, he is dirty, he is an incor- 
rigible thief, he is a native dog ; and I call him ' Pariah,' 
because he possesses all the worst qualities of that lowest 
and worst class of Hindus. But all the beauty that he lacks 
everywhere else has centred in his nose. He can smell a 
tiger as far as .1 could hit him with my rifle. It was right 
in this very spot." 

Scott cringed a little, and fixed his eyes on the spotted 
dog, that suddenly became an object of decided interest to 
him, and a little ugly lump of flesh upon whose judgment 
he was resting an immense importance. 

" I was riding along here, thinking of a sugar- factory that 
I was building, and paying no attention to any thing about 
me, when that little cur began to whine, and slink back beside 
the horse. Then, with his tail between his legs, he began 
to shiver, and stood right still In the middle of the road. I 
thought it was probably a snake in the grass ; for I didn't 
know the dog well then, and was about to drive on, when, 
as I turned, my eyes fell upon the handsomest tiger I ever 
saw, right in that tall grass over there. He was surely a 
man-eater, and very hungry, or he would never have come 
so near the house. I have never seen one about here before 
■or since, and was not expecting it." 

"Didn't it frighten you?" asked Scott. 



258 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" It certainly would if I had had time," replied Richard ; 
"but he had evidently been creeping nearer and nearer the 
huts, driven by hunger, waiting for the first thing that should 
come in his way ; and now he stood erect. His head was 
thrown back, and he was just in the act of settling on his 
haunches to spring at me. He looked even larger than he 
was, in comparison with that little cur ; and the worst of it 
was, that my horse caught sight of him, and began to rear 
and lunge, and try to turn." 

"Why didn't you let him go?" asked Scott. "I should 
have bet on his heels, I think." 

" You would have lost your bet, then," said Richard ; " for, 
as sure as he had turned, the fellow would have sprung • 
but seeing the commotion, and that we were in no hurry to 
get away, the tiger stood up again, and began to watch us, 
as though he rather enjoyed the fun. I had a large forty- 
four-caliber pistol with me, but that was all." 

Scott still kept his eyes on the little dog, saying, — 

"I thought that looking at a wild beast would frighten 
him away." 

"That will do very well for a story-book," replied Richard; 
" and, indeed, it is a fact, if every thing else is in order. If 
you come upon a creature suddenly, when he does not expect 
you, or when he is not driven by hunger, and if you keep 
perfectly still, with your eyes fixed on him, the chances are 
that he will either turn away, or that you will never live to 
tell of having tried the experiment, and failed. But when 
the beast has the best of you by being ready to spring when 
you see him, when you are sitting on a horse that is fright- 
ened out of his wits, and dancing to the best of his ability, 
and when hunger has already made the creature mad enough 



A NOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



259 



to come right into your own lawn, why, the thing is changed. 
I had on a broad-brimmed, soft hat, with a long white puggery 
on it ; and, just to keep the horse quiet, I threw it over his 




'HE SEEMED TO ENJOY THE SHOW. 



ears and eyes, and with one hand tucked it under his bridle 
to hold it fast. The tiger pricked up his ears, and seemed 
to enjoy the show hugely. He even stood up straighter, and 
I could see his muscles relax. I had not thought of it before, 
but this gave me an ideA. He was off his guard then, and 



26o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

the horse would obey me. Very quietly I drew my pistol, 
and cocked it. Then I sent the spurs deep into the horse's 
side, and, with a leap and a groan, he sprang right at the 
tiger. 

"Glory!" ejaculated Scott.- 

" I said so a little later, but not just then," observed Rich- 
ard, wiping the perspiration from his forehead, as the thought 
of that exciting moment sent the blood rushing through his 
veins. " The tiger was not twenty-five feet away. He actually 
started up onto his hind-feet, he was so surprised at the 
sight of a horse with a felt hat on, and a huge white puggery, 
bearing down upon him. Then I fired, and struck him in 
the breast. With a frightful yelp he rolled over on his back. 
He was not dead, by any means, but had only lost his balance. 
I tried to stop the horse ; but he was wild, and in an instant 
had planted a fore-foot directly on the tiger's furry side. He 
sprang and lunged ; and had not the tiger held him fast, fix- 
ing his savage teeth in the horse's fore-leg, he would have 
unseated me. But it gave me a magnificent shot ; and, with- 
out waiting to see how long I was going to stick to the 
saddle, I leaned forward, and fired with my pistol not five 
inches from the tigfer's ear. And that finished him." 

Scott drew a long, quivering breath. " I'd rather be ex- 
cused from tiger-hunting," he said decidedly. 

"But tiger-hunting is quite another thing; for there you 
are prepared, and nine times out of ten the tiger is wholly 
unprepared, and it is he who would rather be excused. The 
butler was telling me this morning that there is a tiger giving 
them a deal of trouble in a little village not far away, where 
I have a farm and a factory, and that they are very anxious 
to have me get up a hunt, and rid them of it. They call it 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 26 1 

their great-uncle, they are so afraid to offend it, lest it should 
have some divinity about it, and revenge itself. Wouldn't you 
like to go upon a hunt ? " 

It was altogether too tempting ; and, forgetting his fears, 
Scott exclaimed, "Indeed I should! When can we go?" 

''In three days, if nothing happens," replied Mr. Raymond. 
" But we must hold ourselves open to having our plans changed 
the moment our agents discover any clew that we can work 
upon." 

" Yes, indeed, sir ! " responded Scott eagerly ; for, beyond 
every thing else, he did not for a moment forget the mission 
upon which he had come, or lose an atom of the eagerness 
he had at first felt, to carry out the end for which they were 
in India, no matter where it might take them, or what it 
might cost. 

"Had you ever any other tussles with tigers?" he asked, 
as they rode toward home again. 

" Nothing so close as that," replied Richard. " It's a great 
mistake that our friends in America make, to think that terri- 
ble tigers and poisonous snakes and frightful reptiles grow on 
every bush in India. But long ago, when I was only a boy, 
working on the railroad, I saw a man-eater take a feast. 
The work was done for the day, and most of the men were 
lying round the flag-centre, enjoying the sunset. The soldiers 
who were not so tired were strolling: at a little distance. 
There was a young Irishman in the guard, who had thrown 
himself carelesslv on the o-round, with his g-un beside him, 
when suddenly the natives about him gave a cry, and started 
away ; for, from a high bank almost over his head, a tiger 
sprang upon him. Before any one could move, it had seized 
him by the throat, and dragged him back into the jungle. 



262 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



where they dared not follow without torches, it was so late. 
The officer was standing very near when the attack was made, 
and he was a brave fellow too ; but he was not quick enough 
to save the soldier's life. He had a struggle with the tigers 
once himself. His bungalow, or house, had to be some- 




thing movable, of course ; but as he was going to occupy 
it for a year or more, while we were at work, he had it 
made as comfortable as possible. We were right in the heart 
of the tiger districts : but it was so hot, that he had to have his 
bungalow as open as possible ; and, to prevent an unexpected 
visitor, he had the front made of lieht but strongr bars, and 
open, like a prison-window," 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



26' 



" I should think he would have felt like a bird in a cage," 
said Scott. 

" It proved very effective, however : for one day, while he 
was reading, he was suddenly aroused by a crash on the bars ; 
and, looking up, 
there were two 
enormous tigers 



sprawled out against 
the grating, panting, 
and reaching their 
great paws within 
ten feet of his 
head." 

" That was a 
menagerie turned 
inside out. He 
had a chance to see 
how the animals 
must like it to have 
•the boys poke them 
with sticks at the 
circus," remarked 
Scott. 

" That may all 
be ; but there was 
no certainty that 
those bars would not break. He had not estimated the 
strength of two tigers at once. But he had several rifles at 
hand ; and, picking up one of them, he fired a ball right into 
the open mouth of one tiger. The other turned to retreat ; 
but, with the other rifle, the oflicer gave him a parting shot, 




STrEPKISED BY UNINVITED GUESTS. 



264 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



that caused him to leave his track in blood for nearly a mile, to 
a jungle, where the men found him dead the next morning." 
Another mail was waiting, with more letters from America, 
when they reached home for breakfast. 




AN OLD-TIME MAIL-TKAIN. 



** Only the twenty-ninth day from Beverly ! " Scott exclaimed^ 
as he read the date. "That's what I call on time in two 
motions." 

"It took the mail three months to reach us from America, 
even in Bombay, when I first came out." 



A HOME AMONG THE HINDUS. 



265 



"Well, how on earth did they ever succeed in sending 
letters so far into the forests and hills as this, before there 
were railways ? " asked Scott. 

" They had a native mail-train that was wonderfully rapid, 
when one considered what it was made of. They put the 
letters into two little bags (there were never many of them), 
and the bags they tied on to the ends of poles. Two Hindus 
•took these poles over their shoulders, and two more, carrying 
torches, went with them, — one in front, and one behind. 
These men were trained from birth to run very rapidly, and 
for a long distance. They bound their girdles close about 
them, and started with the mail." 

"Why didn't they send horsemen?" asked Scott. 

" Simply because the men could go faster and farther 
than the best horses, and would not wear out under it. 
When they came to the jungles, the men with the torches lit 
them, and, shouting as they went, threw them about their 
heads, to make them smoke, and frighten the wild beasts." 

Scott had forgotten his letters for a moment, in hearing 
of the old postmen and their long routes ; biit now he turned 
again to the welcome sheets. He read and re-read ; and at 
last, folding them with a happy sigh, he said to Mr. Ray- 
mond, who was waiting the result, — 

" It's all good news. Father is better, and can already 
begin to speak again." 

" I have also a pleasant letter from the famous native king 
of Baroda, who has always been very friendly to me, and 
invites us to one of his great elephant-fights. He says, that, if 
we will come, he will have two young rhinoceroses fight too." 

"Cracky!" exclaimed Scott. "Isn't that quite like the 
Spanish bull-fights that Christians sit down on in America ? " 



266 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"Not at all," replied Richard, laughing. "There is no 
killing done here. It is only a test of strength, in the case 
of the elephants at least ; and, the moment that there is any 
danger of the rhinoceroses hurting each other, they are 
separated." 

"Doesn't that clean out the fun?" questioned Scott. 

" It would to the Spaniard ; and that is precisely what we 
object to, I suppose. Perhaps I am heathenized ; but it is a 
right interesting sight to me to see two huge elephants strug- 
gling against each other in the arena, till one or the other 
is pushed back against the wall." 

" Well, of course, I want to go," Scott replied. 

" Then, I shall write that as soon as our tiger-hunt is 
over we will start at once for Baroda." 

"And now for the tiger-hunt!" said Scott, his cheeks 
aglow with excitement, and his eyes brilliant with unseen 
sights. "What a whirl there is ahead of me! I don't wonder 
you like India." 

" But that is far from the most beautiful part of this beau- 
tiful land, my boy," Richard replied earnestly. 



TIGERS. 



267 




CHAPTER XVI. 

TIGERS. 

]HE weather was warm again. Even Puna felt it. 
But it was the morning to start for the tiger-hunt ; 
and, in spite of the heat, no one was ready so 
soon as Scott. They rode on horseback out of 
the Hindu town just as the sun, round, red, and fiery, was 
coming up over the hills. They were accompanied by their 
boys, Moro and Sayad, and three or four servants, all well 
mounted ; for Mr. Raymond's stables seemed inexhaustible. 
Scott was very proud of the rifle that hung upon his saddle, 
and over and over again he thanked fortune that he had 
learned to shoot a gun. His father had been a little timid 
about it ; but he had learned, and now he was going on a 
tiger-hunt. 

A short, brisk canter took them away from the native huts 
that cluster about every centre of civilization in India, and 
they were in the wild, free country. 

" If I were an Englishman," said Scott, " I suppose that 
I should say, ' This is jam ! ' But I think it is better than 
any jam I ever tasted." 

*' Not better than currant and crab-apple jelly, is it?" asked 
Richard. 

" Yes, and better than pumpkin-pie," returned the boy. 

They left the immediate jungle, and rode for some time 
alonpf a ridoe of one of the low hills overlookino; a broad 



268 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



plain, where a small river ran at the base of the mountains 

opposite, along- whose banks the mists still lay, shut off from 

the sunlight by the line of higher hills. 

Pointing in that direction, Scott exclaimed, — 

" Why, Mr. Raymond ! I did not know that there was 

another large city so near to Puna." 






THAT WONDERFUL CITY. 



Richard looked in the direction indicated. 

"That is a very remarkable city," said he. "It is famous 
all over the world. People at the North Pole know of it. 
Schoolboys read of it. Pilgrims often hail it with delight. 
They hurry toward it ; and every one who enters its gates is 
presented with a bag of gold so heavy, that he has to hire 
ten bullocks to carry the treasure away." 



TIGERS. 



269 



" Caesar ! let's go over," said Scott, turning his horse's 
head that way, and looking back at Richard, sure that he was 
cracking some joke upon him, but hardly knowing what. 

"You may go," replied Richard, "and I will wait here for 
you. You will not be the first American who has run after 
that city." 

" Run after it ? Why ? Will it run away from me ? " 

" It certainly will not be there when you reach it, to borrow 
an Irish bull." 

"What! is it a mirage?" said Scott in wonder. 

"Yes, it is a mirage, and a very good one," returned 
Richard. 

Scott allowed his horse to stand still while he watched. 
But he had not much time ; for, as the sun came over the 
hills, the mists crept into the river, and there was nothing 
but the green plain, and the flashing silver line that marked 
the river and the darker mountains. 

" Well, if any thing in this world ever looked exactly like 
any thing, and wasn't any thing after all, that city was the 
thing," he observed, as they started once more. 

At eleven o'clock they reached the village, and began to 
organize the hunt. 

First, all the particulars had to be known, — where the 
beast had been seen last, and where he most frequently spent 
the day. Three Englishmen, friends from Puna, whom Mr. 
Raymond had invited, were already on the spot. The very 
night before, the tiger had carried off a man and a calf. He 
had doubtless gorged himself, and would be found in his lair, 
wherever that was, sound asleep. 

The natives knew well which jungle they had to fear, for 
bodies had more than once been traced there. It was not 



270 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



far ; and they started as soon as a force of natives had been 
marshalled, whose duty it was to surround the jungle, and, 
beating into it from all sides, discover the particular den in 
which the animal was lying, start him out, and send him from 
the jungle. 

The mounted hunters were arrangfed in a semi-circle about 
that side of the jungle where the tiger was to be driven out. 
Richard took pains that Scott should be next to him. The 
hunters were placed some distance apart, so that each had 
an imaginary triangle, from halfway between himself and 
his neighbor on either side to the jungle, which he held as 
his individual possession. 

There is a deal of glory, a deal of pride, and a deal of 
pleasure, to the hunter in India, in bringing down a tiger ; 
so that, to avoid confusion, the hunter upon whose triangle 
the tiger appears has the first shot at him. If his shot does 
not tell, the one next him, upon the quarter which the tiger, 
takes, has the next shot ; then the man on the other side. 
By that time there is usually a necessity for every man to 
look out for himself, if the tiger is not dead ; and the man 
whose shot kills the animal is the one who takes the glory 
and the hide. 

Scott was in a state of '' tremendous excitement," as he 
expressed it, when the beaters, with howls and yells, began 
their work. It was all in vain that Richard warned him 
to be calm, that every thing depended on a steady hand 
and sure aim at instant sight, as it is harder to hit and kill 
a tiger leaping over the ground than it is to shoot a bird 
on the winpf. But he was doomed to have time enouo-h to 

o o 

recover. The men beat the jungle through and through, and 
all in vain. Not a sign of tiger or lair could they find. 



TIGERS. 271 

" I should think they would be afraid of being killed them- 
selves," said Scott, when they had waited so long that all 
began to sit more easily in their saddles, and to believe that 
the bird had flown. 

"They do get killed sometimes," replied Mr. Raymond. 
" But when they go in a crowd, they are something like the 
monkeys, — they forget about being afraid. Then, if they are 
careful, they are not in much danger ; for their racket frightens 
the animal, and he is more anxious to get away from them 
than he is to stop and kill one out of so many. It is only 
when he is maddened, that a tiger will fight against odds." 

Now the coolies came out thoroughly exhausted, and de- 
clared that there was no tiger there. 

" But there is," insisted Mr, Raymond. " No tiger would 
eat a man and a calf in one night, and then go off on a 
pilgrimage. Hold my horse, some of you : I am going in to 
look for myself." 

There were remonstrances from several : but all were 
anxious to have a shot ; and knowing that Mr. Raymond was 
a prudent man, and well acquainted with tigers and their 
ways, they yielded the point, and even followed him. 

He had hardly entered the jungle, when there was a cry 
from some of the natives about him. He started forward. 
His friends rushed toward him ; but all were too far away to 
have helped him, as a huge serpent rose at least three feet 
from the grass, and darted toward him. At that instant, how- 
ever, a native with unusual courage, instead of running, as 
all the rest had done, sprang forward, at one leap clearing 
at least twelve feet ; and, even before his feet had touched the 
earth, he had dealt the snake a terrible blow with his beating 
staff, that severed his head from his body ; and the open mouth 
fell within three feet of Mr. Raymond. 



272 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

Richard turned about quietly, and said to the Hindu, — 

" You have saved my life, Balaya, at a risk of your own. 
I shall not forget it." 

The Hindu touched his closed hands to his forehead, and, 
bending very low, said in a voice that was hardly audible, — 

" When the last drop of my blood has been given for 
you, Raymond Maharajah, I shall still be in your debt. 
You have done much more for me and mine." 

As soon as the excitement of the incident had subsided, 
they began again to beat the jungle in earnest. A half-hour 
elapsed, and it was growing dark, when Richard's keen and 
educated eye discovered a dark shadow under a clump of un- 
dergrowth, that even in the gathering twilight looked sus- 
picious. 

" Throw a stone in there," he commanded one of the 
coolies. 

The coolie obeyed ; and, sure enough, the stone did not 
strike the ground, but disappeared. 

" There you have it ! " exclaimed one of the Englishmen. 

" It is a den, at least," replied Richard. " The next thing 
is to know if there is any thing in it." 

They remained perfectly silent for a moment, and listened. 
There was not a sound. 

" Throw a larger stone in, and throw it hard," commanded 
Richard. 

Another stone was thrown, and again all listened. Sud- 
denly the air began to tremble, as with the low, half-audible 
notes of an organ. It seemed to Scott like the purring of 
a giant cat. Every one started. 

" He is there," said Mr. Raymond calmly. 

They all drew back a pace ; for, after all, they were not 



TIGERS. 



273 



SO anxious to be the first to face the beast in the dark jungle 
as they had been outside. 

Mr. Raymond crept a little nearer alone. 




'THROW A STONE IN THERE. 



"Come back! Come back, Sahib! Back Maharajah!" 
shouted several of the Hindus. 

" He will not leave that place so easily," replied Richard, 
.as he bent forward, and threw another stone into the cave. 

The rumbling was increased a little, but that was all. 

" He is securely stowed away," Mr. Raymond continued, 



2 74 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



turning away. "He will not budge an inch for all the stones 
about here." 

"What must we do?" questioned one of the Englishmen. 

" Burn him out," suggested another. 

" Right you are. Give him fire ! " exclaimed a third. 

" It is the only way we can start him," said Richard. 
" But, if we burn him out at this time of night, we shall have 
to stand about the mouth, and take him on the first leap ; 
and, if we miss, it is death to some one, for he will not 
stand on ceremony after that." 

Richard was evidently reluctant, and it made Scott de- 
cidedly fearful. But the majority were for burning him out, 
and the coolies began to gather the fuel. 

" I'm afraid you'll have to lose your chance at a shot, 
after all, Scott," said Richard, sitting down upon a log, but 
keeping one ear turned toward the cave, and both eyes all 
about him. " You are not quite used to this business, and 
had better get up in a tree." 

" I'm not a coward. I will stay where I am ; and if he 
comes at me, and I am not smart enough to look out for 
myself, why, I ought to be eaten up : that's all," he replied 
indignantly. 

" That's all first-rate, Scott," said Richard approvingly. 
" But you must remember, this time, that you did not come 
to India to go on a tiger-hunt. The time may come when 
you will have to look out for yourself sharp ; but just now 
it will be no cowardice, but justice to Paul, that you keep 
out of danger, and get up this tree behind me, at least fif- 
teen feet. From that limb there you can see it all, and be 
all right." 

On second thought Scott obeyed. 



TIGERS. 



2.75 



In a few minutes the wood was gathered, and the fire 
started. It Ht up the jungle with a frightful glare and weird, 
black shadows. Strange noises sounded from all around, as 
animals which were hidden there became frightened, and crept 
away. The Hindus carefully disposed themselves behind the 
cave, with the exception of a few of the bravest of them. 
One or two of them followed Scott's example, and he was 
surprised to see two of the Englishmen do the same. 

The leader of the beaters crept up to the fire, threw on 
some fresh wood, and poked the whole as far as he could 
toward the cave. Still all was silent ; and a moment later he 
crept up again, and, catching some lighted embers, threw them 
into the very mouth. 

" Take care," muttered Richard sharply, whose quick ear 
had caught an ominous sound. The fellow sprang backward, 
tripped on the rocks, and fell. He was none too soon. Mr. 
Raymond stepped backward to a more secure position behind 
the trunk of a tree, which Scott and a native had climbed, 
holding his rifle aimed at the mouth of the cave, and ready 
for instant use. There was no one to dispute his claim to 
taking the shot. 

The fire-brands had done the work. Almost at that instant 
the earth seemed to shiver, as a terrific shriek sounded, and 
the next, with a terrible roar and a wild bound, the tiger 
flew through the air. His eyes were shut, and his savage 
mouth wide open. He swept like a dark cloud through the 
flames, and over the glowing embers, and almost under Scott. 

A piercing cry of fear rose from the natives. A report 
sounded from Mr. Raymond's rifle. Over and over, in a huge 
mass upon the ground, the tiger rolled, stone dead. The 
ball had passed from ear to ear. 



276 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The cry of the natives was changed to one of triumph. 
They gathered about the great creature, stretched him at full 
length, struck him with their feet, pretended to spit upon 




A SUDDEN APPEARANCE. 



him, and expended all manner of devotional symptoms toward 
Mr. Raymond. 

" It was only a very lucky hit," replied Richard. " I could 
get no aim." 

" Aha ! " replied the leader of the beaters, in tolerable 
Eng-lish, " I know the Barra-Sahib when, little one boy, he 



TIGERS. 



277 



work on the railroad. I know him every day till now. I see 
Barra-Sahib cut you candle-light far, far off. I see Barra- 
Sanib kill you pheasant on wing, no hurt you pheasant. I 
see Barra-Sahib shoot one you rebel just here." He put his 
fore-finger between his eyes. " I see Barra-Sahib hit big one 
elephant in little his eye. Now I see Barra-Sahib bring my 
great-uncle right in you ear. Often I see Barra-Sahib shoot ; 
but never, never, I see my Barra-Sahib shoot, and not hit. 
No, never ! " 

Then the applause began again ; and one of the English- 
men, coming up, and slapping him on the shoulder, said to 
Mr. Raymond, — 

" Look here, old fellow, what's the use of being so modest? 
It's that confounded Yankee blood, that you can't get out of 
you. But it doesn't set here any better than fresh pheasant. 
Balaya has told the truth. You're the best shot in the country. 
Now own up to it. How many does this make you?" 

" You're honorable as an Englishman," replied Richard, 
laughing. "This is my fifty-second. But come! It is time 
we were getting out of this." 

The tiger was left for the natives to skin ; and, after one 
of the most exciting days of his life, Scott reached home at 
about nine o'clock, nervously on the alert, but thoroughly 
tired out. 

As they rode through Puna, the new moon was creeping 
above the roofs, and all along the street the people were 
pausing, stopping each other, and making the motion of 
reverence with their closed hands. 

"What is the matter?" asked Scott. 

"They are only saying a welcome to the new moon, for 
luck," replied Richard. " I hope that their prayers will be 



278 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



answered, and that we shall all have it. We must hurry to 
bed to-night, for to-morrow w^e shall start early for Baroda." 

" I don't feel like going to bed," said Scott. " It comes 
over me, over and over again, that this is the last I shall 
see of your beautiful home. I am not at all sleepy. Can't 
you sit up a little while ? " 

" We'll sit up as long as you like ; but a long horseback 
ride and a tiger-hunt is tiresome to one who is not used to 
it. You must not be overdone, and get ill." 

"No, indeed, I will not! But I want to know all about 
tiger-hunting, now that I have begun. Tell me about that, 
to begin with. Do they ever hunt in any other way?" 

" Oh ! I might talk till morning, and then not tell you half 
the ways," replied Mr. Raymond. " The natives usually hunt 
upon elephants when they can. They feel safer there. Here 
is an old Hindu painting of a native tiger-hunt," he added, 
calling Scott to one side of the room, where a curious device 
in a unique frame was hanging on the wall. "It is not very 
high art, but the natives devote little time to this branch. I 
only bought it to help on a young Christian convert who 
seemed to have some talent ; but I keep it because I rather 
like it. The tiger has tackled the elephant, you see : and 
they will quite frequently do it when they are hard pressed ; 
for they often deal with them wild, and know their weak 
points." 

"That is a beautiful painting above it," said Scott, looking 
at a large oil painting in a heavy frame. "It is a Hindu 
scene, but not by a Hindu artist, I fancy." 

" No, it is not by a Hindu artist, and it is not a Hindu 
scene. But I don't wonder you are mistaken. It is certainly 
no other kind of a scene. It is a magnificent painting. I 



TIGERS. 



279 



brought It with me from England. It was painted by one of 
the leading British artists ; but unfortunately, like many literary 



y j^-'^s 




works upon India that are ably written, and attract attention of 
people who really want to learn something, It is the work of 
a man who knew nothing at all of what he was painting. 



28o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

It is supposed to be the meeting of Rebecca and Isaac, when 
Abraham's servant came back from his pilgrimage with a wife 
for his master's son. Every thing is absurd about the picture, 
except the execution ; but that was so fine that I bought it." 

" Well, that's not precisely tiger-hunting. Is there no way 
of killing the creature that is safe as well as exciting ? " 

" The danger is what makes tiger-hunting exciting, I sup- 
pose," replied Richard, shrugging his shoulders. " If there's 
no danger, it is not much more than shooting at a mark. I 
was invited once upon a tiger-hunt with a maharajah, one of 
the native princes, that was certainly the safest thing I ever 
undertook. Down on the river-bank, where the animals had 
to come to drink, he had constructed a tower out of a ruin, 
and on the summit was a broad platform. Here he had an 
elaborate lunch served for us, while we sat and chatted to- 
gether in the moonlight, and ate till the natives on watch 
reported that a tiger was in sight, coming down to drink. 
He could not help coming within range ; and he could not 
touch us, no matter how little we hurt him, or how mad we 
made him. I shot just once, and killed. But it seemed like 
a cowardly thing to do ; and I gave it up, and spent the 
evening enjoying the ^maharajalis lunch and the magnificent 
scenery." 

The noise of the servants shutting the great door and the 
windows for the night sounded from down below. The butler 
came in to receive his orders for Mr. Raymond's absence ; 
and finding that, after all, he was tired, Scott said good- 
night, and was soon dreaming. 

The noise and bustle outside aroused him early the next 
morning ; and, finding himself alone in the great house, he 
wandered out into the court formed by the servants' huts. 



i^Htm\v%ii\k 






I 

f 




282 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



In the veranda behind the house the bootblack was busy 
upon the shoes, and the tailor sat at work. There was to 
be a substantial breakfast, instead of ckota hazri, that morn- 
ing ; and from the cooking-hut issued a savory smell. Scott 
remembered what Mr. Raymond had told him about avoid- 
ing the kitchen if he wanted to keep his appetite ; but he 




«ij.:jijiui^,.Mj:,vi«/jj;.,rw,r,u/»/j;(iii,';i;ii[;,j^jLi'lijiJW;o J IUlUI WSill III llUluuuJM 

THE SCENT OF THE KITCHEN. 



said to himself, " This is the last meal, for some time at 
least ; and I am sure I have seen worse things." And slowly 
he walked toward the open door. 

It was not so bad as his imagination had pictured It, after 
all. And his appetite was sharpened, instead of injured, by 
comparison with his previous fancy. 

On a smooth and polished composition floor sat the head 



TIGERS. 28-^ 

cook and an assistant. The cook sat like a doe on his 
haunches. It is a very common way of sitting in India, when 
one is so occupied that he cannot sit cross-legged on the 
ground. The fellow was peeling potatoes, there was no doubt 
of that ; but he was certainly holding the knife in his toes. 
He had a curious little stove, with a charcoal fire burnine 
before him. There was only a chance for one pot at a time 
on the stove ; but all around were curious pots, all the same 
size, all made to cover up hermetically, and fit the little 
opening above the little fire. There were several fixed-fire- 
places, too, about the room. 

The cook looked up, and smiled. 

" Dis you Hindu stove. Berry good stove," he said em- 
phatically. " English stove he no good. Big one fire no 
cook. Dis you stove little one fire big cook. Berry good 
stove." 

As Scott turned away he found Mr. Raymond directly 
behind him. 

" That was said for my benefit," he said with a cheerful 
good-morning. " I have been trying to make the fellow use 
an English range that I have ; but he is quite correct about 
the fuel. A little handful of charcoal will do a deal of work 
there." 



284 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XVII. 

A HAREM. 

WO Stalwart coolies placed their luggage upon a 
native dray, and then, acting as horses, started off 
for the station. They were strong, and straight as 
arrows. They wore but a single garment, except 
that one of them had on an English shirt, that he seemed 
to feel very proud of. The single garment was a long piece 
of cloth, twisted about them in different directions, but so as 
to cover, with more or less completeness, nearly the whole 
body, except the lower parts of the legs and arms. 

"There are not many seams there to be ripping, or but- 
tons to come off," Scott remarked with a significant smile, as 
they watched the coolies away before starting themselves ; for 
he remembered with what zeal Mr. Raymond's native tailor 
had been kept at work upon his own wardrobe ever since 
they reached Puna. 

" But what do you suppose that that stuff is, that they are 
dressed up in ? " asked Richard. 

" Coarse canvas, or sacking of some sort," replied Scott. 

" That, my boy, is because you have not looked into it." 

" Bah ! " exclaimed Scott with a smile and a shudder. " I 
looked as far into it as possible, and could see nothing but 
dirt." 

"That may all be," responded Richard; "but the ground- 
work of that dirt, figuratively speaking, is fine camel's hair." 



A HAREM. 



285 



"■ Camel's hair ! " exclaimed Scott incredulously, as he 
thought of the value of his mother's camel's-hair shawl, and 
of the way he was punished for pinning it about the neck of 
his big Bernard dog. 

" Those fellows have come down here from Cashmere. 
They do the lowest and dirtiest and hardest of my work, and 
do it for four or five cents 

a day, swelling about in i ' | 

real camel's-hair shawls." 

" But how In the world 
can they afford them ? " 
asked Scott. 

"They can't afford 
them, or any others either ; 
and that is just why they 
wear these. Their great- 
great - grandfathers wore 
that identical piece of cloth 
before them, and their 
great-grandchildren will 
put it on by and by, and 
think it just as good as 
new, without even having 
It pressed over." 

" But what do they do when there is one great-grandchild 
too many ? " asked Scott. 

" Scott, you're too much for me," replied Richard, laughing, 
as he jumped into the carriage. " They either kill him, or kill 
his great-grandfather, or split one of the largest shawls in two." 

Baroda was over two hundred miles to the narthward ; 
but the carriages were so comfortably fitted up with cooling 




COOLIES IN CAMEL'S HAIR. 



286 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

apparatus and soft couches, that Scott slept that night almost 
as soundly as though in his quiet room in Beverly : and, 
before he woke in the morning, Sayad had brushed his boots, 
cleaned his clothes, laid out fresh linen, packed away the 
old, drawn water for his bath, and hung the towels where he 
could most easily lay his hands on them ; the compartments 
of the cars being supplied with all conveniences. 

Sayad was touching him lightly on the shoulder, when 
Scott opened his eyes, and, pointing out of the window, 
said, — 

'' Baroda ! Juldi ! kick, Sahib ! " 

" Who's that he wants me to kick ? " Scott asked Mr. 
Raymond, who had already dressed himself, and lain down 
again on his divan. 

" He's trying to tell you that Baroda will be here quick," 
replied Richard. " And, if he keeps on as he has begun, he 
will soon know so much English, that I shall have to discharge 
him. But you'd better get up, all the same." • 

When the train reached the station, one of the king's car- 
riages was waiting for them ; but, aside from the beauty of 
the carriage, Scott's first impressions of Baroda were not 
more favorable than the first of Bombay had been. But he 
was learning that the very worst of every thing Hindu is 
that which the stranger sees on the outside. 

The street was almost empty at this early hour ; and the 
long rows of low roofs, with their heavy thatches, that were 
often more than a foot thick, looked almost like avenues 
of haystacks. Then they turned down more narrow streets, 
where the houses seemed to strike against the sky, and the 
pavements were damp and slippery, for the sun never touched 
them. The few who were in the streets knelt, and touched 



A HAREM. 



287 



their foreheads to the ground when the coach passed them, 
recognizing the king's carriage. 

" It makes a fellow feel kind of tony, doesn't it?" remarked 
Scott, as they passed three or four kneeling figures. 

" Until you reflect that it is the carriage and horses to 
which they are kneeling," replied Richard. "They probably 
knelt just the same when it went down to the station empty." 





||l<S>^'®^"^^--^^:.ggt 



L^ 




NATIVE STREET. 



"What are those girls doing?" Scott asked, as the car- 
riage passed two young women in front of one ot the low 
doorways, clad in a costume he had not seen before, and 
each with a long pole, pounding something on the hollow of 
a dug-out stump. " Are they churning out some of that white- 
livered butter ? " 

" Not exactly," replied his friend. " Have you never read, 
in a very old book, about two women grinding at a mill?" 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"Of course I have. But that's no kind of a mill." 
" It does the work for these people as well as the upper 
and nether stones did for the Hebrews. They are beating 
rice there, to take the hulls off." 

"Well, how came they to have such ugly clothes and 
pretty faces?" asked Scott, who could not help noticing that 
the faces were really much handsomer than many of the faces 

he had seen. 

" Both are the 
fault of the place 
where those women 
were born," replied 
Richard. " They are 
evidently women of 
Cashmere. Good- 
ness knows why 
they are down here ; 
but we find them ail 
over India. Have 
you never read of 
' the beautiful eyes 
of Cashmere ' ? " 
"Tom Moore wrote about them, didn't he?" 
"That he did, and some beautiful poetry too," replied 
Richard. " And there is any amount of native poetry cele- 
brating their beauty. It is a fact, I think, that the Cashmere 
women are the handsomest in India." 

" Well, I think their husbands are brutes to let them stand 
there, in those old clothes, pounding rice," said Scott indig- 
nantly. 

" As for their clothes, Scott, they are rather proud of them. 




BEATING KICE. 



A HAREM. 



289 



It is a sort of trademark to say that they came from Cash- 
mere ; and It is custom for the women to pound the rice, 
and do a great many things^ that are not customary in America. 
Our people make a great many mistakes, and expend their 
pity in a very wrong direction often, in regard to the women 
of India. They forget that fashion rules these people, just 
as it does others, and that their positions and occupations 
are not what they are because their husbands are tyrants, 
always, but because they themselves uphold the customs." 

"Well, perhaps it is the higher women that are down- 
trodden," suggested Scott : for his mother was the president 
of a large society, in Boston, For the Introduction of Enlight- 
enment into thd Hindustani Zenanas, and Instruction of the 
Women of India ; and he had often heard her talking of the 
terrible state of the women in this benigfhted land. 

"Well, we will not argue the point," replied Richard. "I 
am going to find some means to show you the inside life of 
the high-caste women of India, if I can, and let you judge 
for yourself." 

They drove along a border-road now, and were passing a 
low building at the left, guarded by a line of graceful cocoa- 
nut-trees. Mr. Raymond had been there before, and recog- 
nized their royal quarters. 

They were cordially received by the secretary of the king, 
who announced the entertainments for the next day, and in- 
formed them that in the stable of the house they occupied 
there were five elephants at their disposal while they were 
the guests of the king. 

"What in the world are we to do with five elephants?" 
questioned Scott, almost breathless with excitement, as soon 
as the secretary had gone. 



290 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. . 

" Why, we shall have to cut ourselves up into five pieces, 
and put part into each howdah, I suppose," replied Richard 
solemnly. 

"Or turn three of them out to pasture," suggested Scott. 

"That would never do," said his friend; "for the gener- 
osity of the king is quite as much for his subjects as for us. 
We shall have to let the entire troupe go round with us 
everywhere, to show the people here what magnificent guests 
the king has, and how magnificently he treats them." 

" It'll just be a regular circus, I vow ! " said Scott. " I 
believe I shall feel half ashamed of myself, and as though I 
belonged to some wandering menagerie. Can't we go out to 
the stable, and look at the beasts ? " 

While breakfast was preparing, and the " boys," as Moro 
and Sayad were always called, were arranging the rooms that 
their masters were to occupy (for there were to be other 
guests in the house), Mr. Raymond and Scott went out, and 
found the elephants already prepared for immediate use. 
They were standing and lying in a half-circle before the 
stable. 

"Those cages on their backs," said Scott, pointing to the 
howdahs, " may be all the go here, but they haven't half the 
style to them that they had in Barnum's last show. His 
were all fixed up like the State-house dome in Boston." 

" You may enjoy riding in them just as much," said 
Richard. 

"They make them lie down, and we get up by those 
ladders, I suppose," said Scott gravely. 

"That is the very way," replied Mr. Raymond with mock 
enthusiasm. 

" But I was thinking," continued Scott, "what if we should 



A HAREM. 



291 



go off for a ride, and forget the ladders, and drop something, 
and have to get down, and pick it up?" 

" Have to shin up a palm-tree, and get the elephant to 
back up to it," replied Richard gravely. 

" Can't speak his language," returned Scott. 

" Well, when you go to ride," replied Richard, " there 







^Jmx 







THE KING'S COURTESY. 



will be a man sitting on that elephant's head, with a little 
iron crowbar in his hand, — a maJioot, they call him; and you 
will find that that little crowbar can translate all you wish to 
say to the elephant." 

The breakfast was even an exaggeration of Esofali's ; 
but Scott was beginning to have an appetite for the highly 
spiced food, that is always engendered by life in the Orient. 



292 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



After breakfast one of the wealthy nobles of the court 
called upon Mr. Raymond, inviting him — "by the permis- 
sion of the king," he said — to a feast that he had an- 
nounced in his honor for that evening. 

" He is a jolly fellow. He beats Esofali all to pieces, 
name and all. Can you pronounce it ? " 

" Gulamhusin Khan Kajulala Kabeerkhanbhoy," repeated 
Richard very rapidly, and then added, smiling, " When he is 
in state, at his dinner, or at the king's court to-morrow, 
there are about a hundred and fifty or two hundred titles that 
we shall have to add every time that we address him." 

Scott groaned. " You can bet I sha'n't bore him to death, 
with conversation at least," he added, after a moment of re- 
flection. 

" No, you will not do that ; but I shouldn't wonder if 
you chatted with him like a magpie, for he is one of the 
most go-ahead men in India. You will like him." 

Scott shook his head, 

" Not only that," continued Richard, " but I am thoroughly 
in luck here. I had not thouor-ht of him, but I am oroine to 
get him to ta-ke you through his harem. He'll do it, I'm 
sure." 

" Great Caesar's ghost!" cried Scott (that was an oath 
that he always reserved for the most terrific hours of life). 
" Don't send me a rod alone with him. Suppose I should 
want to speak to him." 

" He speaks as good English as the Prince of Wales." 

"Say his name to me once more, will you, please?" asked 
Scott humbly. 

A little later they paid their respects to the king. Scott 
followed Mr. Raymond with fear and trembling, which was 



A HAREM. 293 

much abated, however, when he found the great man seated 
in an English easy-chair on a beautiful veranda, quietly smok- 
ing a hookah, dressed in white linen, cut after the fashion 
of a loose English business suit, and wearing a little cap of 
the same material. By his subjects he is called the " Gaiakwar." 

The conversation was wholly in English. He even spoke 
to his servants in English, and spoke to them himself, without 
any intervention of a secretary, though the one who had met 
them sat on a rug beside him. 

Before they went away the king ordered a lunch for them, 
and called after the servant who went to prepare it, " No 
wine and no hookahs (or cigars)." Then turning to Mr. Ray- 
mond, with a laugh, he added, " That's an abominable trick 
of yours. But England would stand a hundred per cent 
higher in India if half the Englishmen followed your example." 

"He's just a perfect brick!" exclaimed Scott, as they were 
on their way to the nobleman's dinner. " He knows a deal 
more about America than I know about India. But what an 
every-day sort of fellow he is ! " 

" It's not the most of a brag that's the most of a man. 
He is one of the few native rulers who have succeeded in 
nominally holding rank and people, in spite of English acces- 
sion," replied Richard. 

The native feast was, as Mr. Raymond warned Scott in 
advance, the most tedious kind of a bore. At one end of 
the magnificent hall sat the host, Mr. Raymond, Scott, and 
a few of the most illustrious guests, while at the other, in a 
half-circle, sat a hundred native friends of the host. 

These friends were all seated on the floor ; and Scott 
found much more pleasure in watching them than in any 
thing else. The food was brought to them in curious flat 



294 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



dishes, and they all ate with their fingers. Above them, at 
the end of the dining-hall, was a balcony with graceful marble 
arches ; but the space between the arches was filled with a 
fine gauze, in heavy folds, so that only dim shadows could 
be seen behind it. 

" Is that what you call the harem, up there ?" Scott asked 
Mr. Raymond when he found an opportunity. 

" Not exactly," he replied. " But those are the inmates, 
so to speak." 

" Do you suppose all of his wives are up there, or is that 
only one squad ? " Scott asked a few moments later. 

Mr. Raymond laughed. " You must not take it for granted 
that every man in India has a hundred wives. Gulamhusin 
Khan " — 

" Never mind the rest of it," Scott interrupted, laugh- 
ing. 

" Very well, then : the aforesaid gentleman has only one 
wife. He has often told me that, and he is very proud of 
her. He says he has no children, for he has only one girl." 

" And girls don't count," interrupted Scott again, who re- 
called so much from his mother's society talk. 

"They count in the father's heart, as you will find upon 
conversing with him. After the dinner there is always a dance. 
Half a dozen nautch girls, such as you saw at the temple in 
Bombay, will com_e in with their musicians ; and, for two hours 
and more, they will sit down and sing, and stand up and 
dance, and sit down and sing again. It is intolerably stupid. 
Most of the guests go to sleep under it ; and, when it is half 
through, I am going to ask my friend to take you through 
the zenana. It will be a frightful innovation ; but he rather 
Hkes to do shockino- thinors, and I think he will do it." 



A HAREM. 295 

" But what sort of a zenana can a man get up, with only 
one wife ? " Scott asked rather disappointedly. 

''Why, he has a wife, a daughter, a mother, and a widowed 
sister ; and there will be several friends, probably, to see the 
feast ; and there will be several important servants, like com- 
panions in America, and a small army of less important servants, 
that are always called slaves when we hear them spoken of 
in America." 

The " Society " pictures of harems at once rose before 
Scott's eyes ; and he almost shuddered, as he thought of the 
horrible prison of worthless, senseless butterflies into which it 
might be his lot to penetrate. 

When the time came, and the proposition was made, their 
host even astonished Mr. Raymond with the readiness with 
which he assented, and, motioning to Scott, said rather 
quietly, — 

" My very good friend tells me that in America you have 
a horrible idea of the private corners of our little homes. He 
calls you a boy. In this country you would have been mar- 
ried years ago. My daughter is not half so old as you, but 
she has been married two years. She is still living at home 
with her mother, to learn to be a good wife. But as you 
are still a boy in America, and as boys are not forbidden the 
zenana, and as I would do any thing in the world for my 
very good friend Mr. Raymond, I am going to frighten my 
little women out of their wits." 

"Don't scare them on my account, Mr. — Mr. — Mr." — 

" You are not the first one who has stopped when he got 
so far," said their host, laughing. " But never mind scaring 
them. They will get over it. They call me crazy and an 
infidel now, because I make them eat with knife and fork, 



296 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



and sit in chairs, and sleep on beds, and a host of such 
things. It will only make them sure of it. Come on." And, 
turning, he led the way, only stopping for a moment to 
beckon Mr. Raymond, and add, " Don't whisper this at court, 
and don't let the boy turn out a man as soon as he has 
solved the terrible secrets, and boast about it ; for you know 

I am a Mussulman 
at a Hindu court." 
Scott hesitated. 
He did not quite 
like that way of do- 
ing things ; but the 
host took his hand, 
and, laughing, led 
him out, saying cor- 
dially, — 

" You must not 
mind my way, 
young gentleman. 
You know this is 
an old, gray-beard- 
ed nation, that has 
been tying up knots of fashion for centuries and centuries. 
We cannot undo them in a day, no matter how much we 
dislike them. We will outgrow them by and by, and we will 
all be Englishmen, or something better," he added with a 
twinkle in his eye. 

They had reached the lower end of the hall, by a corridor 
leading outside. He stopped at the stairs leading up to the 
balcony. 

" Ayah ! " he called ; and, as a woman appeared, he ex- 




THE HOST'S MOTHER. 



A HAREM. 297 

plained to Scott, " This is my daughter's nurse. She will take 
you round, and introduce you." 

" But I cannot speak Hindustani, or any other Indian 
language, sir," said Scott, much alarmed, and forgetting old 
Joe's caution not to "go sirrin' round." 

" They all speak English," the host replied ; " and the 
worst of it is, that my wife and daughter read it too. It is 
very expensive procuring books for them, and answering their 
questions when they kidnap my newspapers." Then he turned 
to the ayah, and asked, "Are there any visitors?" 

"They all went. Sahib, when the dance began," she re- 
plied. 

"That is good," he said, half to himself, and half to Scott. 
" Women are great talkers. They are worse than English 
papers for spreading the news ; for the paper has to tell it the 
same to every one who reads it, but our women have a way 
of making a good thing a little better every fresh time the)' 
go over it. And they will go over it every time they find 
any one who has not heard it. If there were one single 
stranger here, I should hear, by daylight to-morrow, that I 
had brought all the Englishmen in India to Baroda for the 
express purpose of marching them through the zenana." 

" I am afraid I had better not go," said Scott. 

"Tut, tut! Go as a favor to me," exclaimed the host. 
" My own people will never lisp a word. It would be like 
putting on a wrong sari, or wearing colors that clashed, — a 
little out of fashion. It is quite safe, quite safe." Then 
turning to the ayah, who was waiting at a respectful dis- 
tance, he said, "This is a very great prince, from a country 
twice as far away as England, and ten thousand times larger. 
He has heard that mine is a model house, and will see it. 



298 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 

Say to all, that it is my command that they remain as they are. 
They shall not put on veils, and shall speak with the prince 
when he speaks to them. — Go on now. Sahib," he said to 
Scott in a loud voice. 

"Shall I not wait till she has given your word?" Scott 
asked timidly, and in the low tone. 

" Oh, no ! there is no need," replied the host in the same 
low tone. " They have all heard it already. Our women have 
a way of listening from somewhere or other, whenever there 
is any thing interesting going on, and then spreading the 
news like a fire in the jungle." 

He turned abruptly, and went back into the hall ; and Scott 
approached the ayah, who was evidently even more frightened 
than he, and who bowed very low, touching her forehead 
with her closed hands. Then she turned, and, without a 
word, led the way. 

First, they passed through the balcony above the dining- 
hall. The carving and tapestry was much finer there than 
below. Scott thought it a pity that it should be hidden by 
the thick folds of gauze, but was surprised to find how easily 
those behind could see and hear all that went on in the hall. 
He hesitated for an instant, for his eyes fell upon three ladies 
who were sitting on the floor at one end. There were cups 
of tea before them, and a silver pot of curious construction, 
in which tea was evidently kept hot for further draughts. 
There was a hookah, too, in which the tobacco was still 
smoking; but the long, curving stem was lying idly over the 
bowl. He wondered who could have been smoking it, and 
curiosity drove his fears away. He bowed as politely as pos- 
sible, and said, — 

" I hope I am not disturbing you." 



A HAREM. 



299 



They only smiled. 

" If you were smoking, I hope you will not stop for me," 
he added. 

They looked at each other ; and one of them took up the 
stem, and, putting the mouthpiece to her mouth, began to 
puff away with a genteel delight, that reminded Scott of the 
way some of his school-girl friends smiled, and ate chocolate 

caramels, when he tried to „ , 

talk to them. ' ! / '* 

He began to feel brav- ' 

er himself, and to enjoy 1 | ^ I \ \ 

the adventure. 

They passed through 
several very pretty cham- 
bers, that Scott vainly en- 
deavored to recollect ex- 
actly afterward, where 
there were hanging-lamps 
and delicate odors and fine 
carvings in marble walls 
and bright-colored tapes- 
tries. One of these was 
a sort of conservatory, 
where there were several swinging-gardens, and flowers in 
curious pots. Among the flowers Scott caught sight of a 
little girl, or a grown woman, — he could hardly tell which, — 
who was demurely smoking a hookah. She started, and gave 
a little cry, and drew her sari over her face as they passed. 
She had evidently not heard the command. Scott feared she 
might go into hysterics, or something of the sort; from the 
cry she gave. He had heard of such cases, and involuntarily 




IN THE HAREM. 



300 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



looked round after they had passed the door. It was an 
incredibly short time ; but there was the little creature's head 
thrust beyond the curtain, looking at him with wondering 
eyes. It dodged back again in an instant. 

Still the ayah led on. Scott was on the point of asking 
her if her object was to begin at the farther end, and work 
backward, when she stopped at a curtained door, coughed 
slightly, said a few words softly in her own language, to which 
a faint reply sounded ; and, drawing the curtain, she bowed, 
and announced the mother of the host. 

Scott found himself before a woman young enough to be 
the man's wife, he thought, but with a very stately grace, 
and not a very homely face. 

" She'd not be an over-agreeable mother-in-law," he said 
to himself, as he looked at the erect head and firm mouth ; 
but there was so much real common sense there, and such a 
ladylike bearing, that it was a shock even to the boy, when 
the sight of the immense collection of jewels drew him back 
to the fact that she was. one of the useless inmates of a real 
harem. 

" She's got some vim, if she is a slave and a butterfly," 
he said to himself. He had almost forgotten to bow ; but he 
did it at once, remarking, " I have had a very plea — interest- 
ing evening," remembering his party etiquette. He was on 
the point of saying '* pleasant," but it stuck on his tongue ; 
for he had been taught that there was both a letter and spirit 
to what is called truth. 

" My son is insane," said the lady decidedly, without 
moving a muscle in recognition of his bow. She was evi- 
dently not at all afraid ; and, in even ratio, Scott began to 
feel somewhat timid. 



A HAREM. 301 

He hastened to remark, " But he seems to be a very fine 
gentleman," 

" You may be great, but Allah and his prophet are greater," 
she added sternly. 

" But I am very young yet," Scott urged timidly, without 
thinking precisely who it was that- he was peering at. 

" My son will be older than his God before he has half 
the brains of his father," she returned. 

Seeing that he was making but little progress here, Scott 
ventured to say, " I wish you good-evening, ma'am," and 
withdrew. 

"The good mother is old," said the ayah, when they had 
entered another room that was empty. "The Barra-Sahib must 
not remember what she has said, for she has learned only a 
few sentences in English. She cannot understand a word." 

" She is not old ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" She is forty-one," replied the ayah. 

" Bah ! that's only a young girl," said Scott, " I thought 
her son was thirty, at least." 

" He is twenty-seven." 

"Csesar's ghost ! his mother only fourteen years older than 
he is ! " Scott muttered. 

" He had a brother a year older, but he is dead," the ayah 
replied apologetically. "His widow was smoking in the 
flower- room." 

" Why, I thought the widows had a horrible time of it," 
said Scott, recalling the merry little face among the flowers. 

" I am a widow too," replied the ayah. " It is very sad." 

" So it is," returned Scott consolingly. " But did you say 
the mother did not understand what I said ? " 

" Not a word, Sahib. She was old when her son said 



02 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

that we all should speak English, and had a teacher come. 
She could not learn : she only committed a few sentences, to 
say to her daughter-in-law, when she was particularly pleased 
or displeased with her son." 

" But she spoke very correctly." 

"We had a good teacher, and she has said those sentences 
a great many times." 

"Then she is often displeased with her son," suggested 
Scott. 

" It is a mother's position to reprove," the ayah answered 
humbly. 

"Did you learn English here?" asked Scott. 

" I went to the mission-school in Bombay when I was a 
girl, and I was an ayah in England for five years after my 
husband died." 

"How old were you when your husband died?" 

"I was about thirteen: I do not know exactly. I was 
very poor, and a good missionary lady took me home with 
her." 

"Did she make a Christian of you?" Scott asked, intent 
upon sifting the whole matter. 

The ayah turned abruptly, and said solemnly, — 

" God is God, and Mohammed is the prophet of God." 
That is the great Mussulman creed. Then she added, "Jesus 
also was his prophet. Sahib. He came to teach you the way 
of life. Follow your prophet : let me follow mine. One 
heaven, one God, waits to receive all the faithful." 

Scott felt that he had been rebuked by that poor ayah ; 
and he followed her silently into the next room, where she 
again tapped and coughed by a curtained door, and said 
something in Hindustani. Again there was a soft reply, and 
Scott entered. 



A HAREM. 303 

Upon an ordinary ottoman sat the wife and daughter of 
the host. Scott said to Mr. Raymond afterward, that he 
could " hardly tell one from the other, they looked so near 
the same age, especially the mother." 

They did not wear so many jewels as he expected, though 
each had heavy gold bands, beautifully twisted, about their 
ankles. They were dressed in the most elegant clothes Scott 
had ever seen. It was delicate silk, wonderfully worked with 
gold and silver thread embroidery. They were not what 
Scott thought pretty, but they were far from bad looking. 

" I hope I am not intruding," Scott said, feeling his 
ground, in the first place, to find out whether the wife could 
really understand English, and then to see if such a recep- 
tion waited for him as he had received from the mother. 
What was his surprise, when, with a clear, bell-like voice 
and a pleasant smile, the lady replied, — 

" No, indeed, sir ! I should like to receive all of my hus- 
band's foreign friends just as the English ladies do, and he 
would like to have me. I think that we shall bring it about 
by and by." She motioned the ayah to bring a chair ; and 
Scott seated himself, glad of something to do for a moment 
to collect his thoughts. 

Seeing that he was a little embarrassed, the lady con- 
tinued, " You are not an Englishman, I think ? " 

" No, ma'am, I am an American," replied Scott. 

" Oh, how pretty every thing must be there ! " she ex- 
claimed, giving her daughter a little squeeze, and laughing 
merrily. " I have several lady friends who are Americans. 
They have told me so much about it ! and I have read some 
very beautiful stories too. I cannot understand them very 
well ; but I think that song by Henry Longfellow, about 



304 



OUR BOYS JN INDIA. 



Hiawatha and Minnehaha, is one of the sweetest things I 
ever read, except our own beautiful songs." 

Just then a Httle girl, all bespangled with ornaments, came 
timidly in, and presented a tray with tea and rose-water to 
the wife, who held it toward Scott, asking him to take the 
refreshment. The little girl sat down by her mistress to wait 

till he had finished. 

"Thank you, Mrs. — 
Mrs. " — Scott hesitated. 
He began to tremble be- 
fore that terrible name, 
and wish he had not 
undertaken it. 

The lady laughed hear- 
tily. 

" Zyna is my name," 
she said at last. 

" Mrs. Zyna, that is 
lovely ! " exclaimed Scott. 
" No, Zyna all alone," 
she cried with another 
peal of laughter, in which 
all in the room joined 
more moderately. "We 
are not like English ladies. We would rather our husbands 
would have all the titles. They are not nice." 

" I suppose you have nothing to do but read and sing," 
said Scott, thinking of the "Society" for the Enlightenment 
of the Zenanas. 

" Oh, yes, indeed ! " replied Zyna. " My daughter and I 
make all our own clothes, and " — 




THE PRETTY WAITER. 



A HAREM. 305 

"What! not embroider them?" exclaimed Scott, looking 
again at that exquisite needlework. 

" Oh, yes, indeed ! " she replied. " We weave the silk 
sometimes, and always embroider it. Isn't it pretty ? " she 
asked, tossing out a fold of the sari that was covered with 
delicate flowers in silver and eold. 

" It is the finest thing I ever saw," said Scott enthusias- 
tically. "Why, I thought you never did any work at all." 

Zyna laughed again. "That's what the American ladies 
say ; but last year, Reyhamut (my daughter) and I sold four 
thousand rupees' worth of embroidery in the bazaar. We had 
woven and embroidered it all ourselves." 

"Sold it!" cried Scott aghast. "What for?" 

" Oh ! joined to do all that we could for the poor that were 
suffering in 'the famine. But that was not much. Our great 
India Sultana, the Banoo Begum, gave a million rupees to 
the poor of Delhi, that she had earned all herself. Oh, we 
are very proud of our women ! Some of them have been 
great poets ; and women have ruled India, too, more than 
once. But that is not our place, and we do not like that. 
There is something comes up every day to do. To-day 
Kashee — where is Kashee ? " she asked, looking round. 
" Ayah, go and bid Kashee bring in the little boy." Then, 
turning again to Scott, she continued, " To-day Kashee found 
a poor little boy in the street, who was almost dead with 
hunger. She brought him home till we can find out who he 
belongs to. We have worked a little girdle and a little cap 
for him, and it makes him feel like a rajah." 

Then Kashee entered timidly, with her eyes turned away 
from Scott. But the little boy picked up in the street had 
no such diffidence, and looked him right in the eye, and 



3o6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



laughed, though he had absolutely nothing on but the little 
girdle and the little cap. 

Scott now began to notice the heavy and very handsome 



, <^-^>^;. 




■^ 



,i% 










^x 




^ i^ 



j/^^MPMl 



EASHEE AND THE BOY. 



rugs upon the floor, and the embroidered screens and carved 
marble walls. 

"Every thing is very beautiful here," he said to himself; 
and, without half thinking, he added aloud, " But why don't 
you have pictures on the walls too ? " 

" It is too much like idols," Zyna replied with a shudder. 
" The Hindus have pictures, and pray to them." 



A HAREM. 307 

" But we have pictures, and we don't pray to them," said 
Scott. 

" Why, I have always heard that you kneel down to pic- 
tures of Jesus and his mother, and pray to them," said Zyna. 

"Oh! that's the Catholics," said Scott scornfully, 

" Well, every thing- is so mixed up over there, that all I 
read only confuses me. I shall never be able to understand 
it all, I think. It is all so simple here in India." 

Scott looked up in astonishment. He had thought, that, 
of all that was mixed up and unintelligible, it was the state 
of society in India. 

The little girl who had brought his tea took it away again, 
and returned with a silver plate, and some green leaves care- 
fully folded up on it like little horns of plenty. She offered 
them to Scott, but he looked at them doubtfully. Zyna 
laughed. 

" Perhaps you don't chew betel ? " she said. "Nevermind. 
I think the Americans never do. But we do," she added ; 
and, taking one, she put it in her mouth, and all the rest 
did the same. In a moment all their lips began to have a 
little red line about them, and their teeth were red ; for no 
one in the zenana had stained teeth, though all their finger- 
nails and toe-nails were dyed red. 

" Some of your customs I like very much, and some I 
don't like at all," Zyna continued. But another maid came 
in, and spoke to her softly ; and, laughing, she said to Scott, — 

" My husband's mother is old. She does not see with his 
eyes. She says that she thinks it very wrong for you to have 
come, and that I must tell you it is time to go." 

" That's so," said Scott, springing to his feet. He had 
quite forgotten himself. 



3o8 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" If you please," Zyna continued, " it is customary for us 
to make our guests a little present ; and, as we have been 
talking of Mussulmani women, I should like to give you this 
little painting on ivory. It is very old. It was painted nearly 

three hundred years ago. 
It is a portrait of the 
great sultana, who discov- 
ered that perfume could 
be made from flowers, and 
who made the first attar 
of roses. She was pre- 
paring a drink to tempt 
the appetite of a wounded 
soldier." 

" Thank you, thank 
you, ma'am ! " exclaimed 
Scott, as he took the pre- 
cious treasure ; for he had 
heard that it was never 
wise to refuse what was 
offered, and he was sure 
she wished him to keep it. " But I am very sorry I have 
nothing with me that can return your kindness." 

" Never mind," she said carelessly. " You can send me a 
pretty American story-book some time." 

" I'll send you a whole library full ! " said Scott enthusi- 
astically, as he rose, and was conducted back again to the 
hall, where the dancing and singing were still going on ; and, 
as Richard had said, all who were not smoking and chewing 
betel were sound asleep at the lower end of the hall. Mr. 
Raymond and the host were playing a game of chess. 




THE GREAT SULTANA. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 309 




CHAPTER XVIII. 

AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 

HEN they reached their bungalow again, which was 
not till two o'clock in the morning, Scott showed 
the ivory portrait to Mr. Raymond. 

" There is a souvenir indeed ! " he exclaimed. 
" It could not be bought for five hundred dollars. In fact, 
it could not be bought at all. It is one of the relics of 
India's palmy days, under the glorious reign of the great 
Moguls." 

" She's an odd stick, according to this picture," said Scott ; 
" but what in the world is that that she has got beside her ? 
Is it a snake ? " 

" It's only a hookah',' said Richard. • 

" A hookah ! To smoke ? Great Caesar's ghost ! Why, 
it's a regular hose-pipe. I don't wonder she got a jaw like 
that, puffing away on such a thing. What awful bellows she 
must have had to work it ! 

"By the way," he continued a moment later, " what were 
those things they had to hold their tea in ? " 

"I do not know," replied Richard. " I was never in a 
harem." 

"Never?" asked Scott in surprise. Had it been a few 
years later, Richard would doubtless have replied, " Well, 
hardly ever ; " but, as it was, he stuck to his first proposi- 
tion. 



3IO 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"No, never! nor has any other European man, or native 
either, as for that, except in his own. You have done a 
wonderful thing ; and you will not find one in a hundred, who 
knows any thing about India, who will believe you when you 
tell him. However, I would be very careful, and not speak 
of it till after you are out of India, as it might bring reproach 
on the kindness of our friend." 

The next thing was the arena ; and, preparing themselves 
for the day as soon as breakfast was over, they started for 
the palace, where a large throng was already collected. The 
nobles were gathered upon a balcony, where mats were laid 
for those who wished them, and arm-chairs for the Europeans, 
of whom there were nearly a score. Opposite them there 
was a raised platform, where those of the populace who could 
gain admission were permitted to sit ; and the roofs and win- 
dows and trees in every direction were crowded. 

Horsemen of the royal body-guard were about the gate 
as they entered, proudly displaying their horsemanship, which 
was, indeed, something well worth seeing. 

In the arena, which was an enormous square, two large 
male elephants were fastened by heavy chains, far apart from 
each other ; and outside, on a low hill, three female elephants 
were standing, where they could overlook the entertainment. 

" Elephants are something like men," the king said to 
Scott, as they seated themselves. "They always show off 
their best prowess when the ladies are looking on." 

Indeed, the male elephants seemed fully to appreciate the 
occasion, and were furiously dashing about in their chains, 
eagfer to test their strength. 

" What makes them so much more excited than other 
elephants ? " asked Scott. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



311 



"They have been fed on butter and sugar and rice and 
spices for the last three months," rephed the king, "to make 
them what we call ' musti,' or vicious." 

All around the high stone wall that fenced in the en- 
closure, there were little doors about as high as a man, and 
as broad as a man. Mr. Raymond explained that these were 
for the natives to dodge into, and escape the furious elephants 
when they went into the arena, and were chased by them. 

" I could do that myself," said Scott. But when he saw 
the struggle begin, and the lightning rapidity with which 
those huge animals would turn about, face any one who 
annoyed them, and charge across the field, he made up his 
mind that he would rather be excused. 

The time came at last, and two men approached the two 
angry elephants. 

Scott started to his feet. They were going very near. 
He thought they must surely be killed. 

" There is no harm," said the king, who had taken a 
seat beside Scott. " They are the keepers. The elephants 
know them, and are never so angry that they will injure 
them." 

It was a fact ; for the fellows went deliberately up to the 
animals, and even made them take them on their trunks, and 
lift them to their heads. 

" They're going to have the front seats in this show," 
Scott observed to Mr. Raymond, as other natives came in, 
and loosed the irons and chains about their legs ; but, a mo- 
ment after, he forgot about talking altogether. 

The two animals started for each other the moment they 
found they were free. There was only a shrieking whistle 
from each as a signal, and they came together. The two 



312 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

great heads struck with a fearful blow ; and the tusks, that 
were cut short that they might not injure each other, 
clattered and rang with the rapid strokes that only lasted for 
an instant, and then all was still. 

The keepers had been obliged to cling for life to prevent 
themselves from being thrown off in the first blow ; and the 
enormous bodies of the elephants had been lifted till their 
fore-feet were swinging in the air, as, with all their mighty 
strength, they pushed against each other with their hind-feet. 

The .moment they were still they began twisting their 
great trunks round each other ; but that was the only motion, 
as each keeper urged his elephant on, and each animal laid 
every jot of power that he possessed into the muscles of those 
hind-legs. 

Scott was trembling with excitement. The king even be- 
came so interested in the struggle, that he got up, and leaned 
against a pillar of the balcony. 

" Look ! " said Richard. '* That fellow at the left is giving 
way." 

•' Why, he is pushing the other backward ! " replied Scott 
excitedly. 

" Yes ; but he'll turn. See ! " And sure enough, having 
made that desperate effort, and thrown the other from his 
balance, he turned suddenly, and ran toward the stable-door. 

"What made him do that, when he was getting the best 
of it ? He's a regular blockhead," said Scott scornfully, 

"That was the last jump," replied Richard. "He saw 
that his strength was giving way. He did not stop to think 
that his opponent had been weakened by modern improve- 
ments, and had lost the sharp points to his tusks ; but instinct 
told him, that, if he turned and ran, the other fellow would 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 313 

Stab him in the side, and that, if he stood there much longer, 
he would be doubled over backward. So, when he found 
that he had got to go, he gave the other fellow a push that 
made him lose his balance ; and, while he was settling on his 
feet again, he escaped." 

Irons were put on to the vanquished elephant's feet, and 
he was led away. He did not make much objection. He 
seemed to feel ashamed of himself. The other fellow swelled 
up his sides with pride, swung his trunk in the air, looked up 
at the female elephants on the hill, and then looked around 
him for new worlds to conquer. 

He did not have to wait long; for a dozen natives, naked 
to the waist, with shaven heads and very small turbans and 
the most meagre of breeches, ran into the arena. They were 
stalwart, finely- formed fellows. 

" They are dressed rather thin : I envy them," said Scott, 
as *he wiped the perspiration of excitement from his forehead. 

" That is so that the elephants will have nothing to take 
hold of," replied the king. 

"Why, what are they going to do?" asked Scott. 

"Those fellows with lances are going to have a sham fight 
with him ; and the men with poles have fuses in the end, 
which they set off in the elephant's face, in case of accident, 
to frighten him, and prevent him from doing any hurt." 

"Is no one ever killed?" asked Scott. 

"I never saw one killed," replied the king; "though my 
English friends tell me it is reported in their country that 
deaths are very frequent." ' 

Now the fellows with the lances began a tirade upon the 
elephant ; and, as the sharp points stuck into him, he would 
whirl one way, and then another, after the men, who would 



314 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

fly from him, while others on the other side attacked him. 
But at last he seemed to hit upon one who had either worried 
him more than the rest, or who had something peculiar about 
him by which he could identify him. Then he made for him ; 
and the poor fellow had to use his legs with might and main 
to escape him. Sometimes the shave was so close, that the 
elephant could not stop himself, and would bang his head 
into the wall over one of the doors, that was too small for 
him to go through. 

This seemed to be the thing that was sought for by the 
men in the arena ; for the crowd considered it the very best 
of jokes, and applauded vehemently. 

Then a horseman came in. His horse was a very graceful 
creature, until he turned round ; but his tail was not only cut 
off very short, but clipped beside, so that the elephant could 
not take hold of it. 

Scott thought this performance the most interesting part 
of all ; and the least interesting, that part upon which most 
stress was laid as the great occasion of the day, — the rhi- 
noceros-fight, when two of those clumsy animals were driven 
into the arena from opposite sides. 

They no sooner saw each other (or heard each other, for 
they can only see a very short distance) than they began a 
lumbering trot, intent upon meeting. This trot grew faster, 
till in the centre they were going almost as fast as the ele- 
phants. But they had not aimed exactly right, and were too 
clumsy to turn. The result was, that they shot past each other, 
and brought up at opposite sides of the arena. 

A shout went up from the spectators. The king and his 
guests roared with laughter ; and the animals roared with pas- 
sion, as they turned and again charged, only to miss as before. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



3^5 



This time they were not going so fast, however, and the 
third time brought them together. Then they fought furiously 
with their horns, almost as, though educated fencers, till one 
made a lucky stroke, and fixed his horn under the other's 
throat, — their only vulnerable point, — that instinct told him 
was the place to make the attack. The other, by instinct, 
parried this blow by twisting his head suddenly, so as to bring 








\ y 



KHINOOEEOS FIGHT. 



the horn against his jaw, instead of his throat, where it could 
do no harm. 

" That last elephant out was the Executioner," said the 
king to Mr. Raymond a little later, while they were eating 
an elaborate lunch upon the balcony. " Did you recognize 
him ? " 

" I did, your highness," replied Richard ; " and, with your 



3i6 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

permission, I would like to take my friend to the stable to 
see him before we go." 

"I will go with you," replied the king; and, in a few min- 
utes, he rose and led the way. He walked about the great 
stables, talking with the men he met there exactly as though 
he were one of them. He would take Scott by the arm, and 
lead him here and there to obtain the best views of the fettered 
animals. He had a menagerie that would have excelled all 
the circus combinations of America ; and many times, as they 
w^ere talking and laughing, Scott stopped suddenly, and looked 
up into his face. Could it be that he was one of those hor- 
rible heathen kings that were painted in "Arabian Nights" 
tales, even in some very modern and professedly very accurate 
literature ! 

"Why do you call him the Executioner?" he asked, as 
they passed the cages, and approached the enormous ele- 
phant. 

" Why, because, years and years ago, when our good friend 
Mr. Raymond and I were little fellows, they used to have a 
way of executing prisoners that was so severe, that, as soon 
as we began to pick up bright ideas from the foreigners, we 
abolished it. They made this old elephant the executioner, 
and he enjoyed his work hugely." 

" How in the world did you make him executioner?" asked 
Scott. 

" Mr. Raymond saw one of the last executions that took 
place," replied the king. " It was then that I met him for 
the first time. He is more than half responsible for its being 
abolished, and for my being here to-day. He will tell you 
about it." 

"Why is he called the Executioner, Mr. Raymond?" Scott 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 317 

asked abruptly, coming up to Mr. Raymond when the king 
left him. Mr. Raymond started. He was evidently thinking 
deeply of something past. But in a moment he replied, — 

" When a man was convicted, they used to tie him to this 
elephant's heels, and let him be dragged through the public 
streets ; and, if that did not kill him, after a certain time they 
laid his head upon a block, and the elephant went deliber- 
ately up, and put his fore-foot on it, resting all his weight 
possible on that foot." 

Scott looked up at that towering beast, so much larger 
than any he had ever seen, and shuddered, as he thought of 
-what those huge feet had done. 

But the thought of the other questions that he had to 
ask drew Scott from the fearful sight ; and he said, — 

"Will you please tell me, Mr. Raymond,^ — the king told 
me to ask you, and said you would, — how it was that you 
put a stop to that style of punishment, and are responsible 
for his being the king to-day ? " 

Richard turned clear about, and looked him .in the eye 
for a moment. Then, with a light laugh, he muttered, "Stuff! 
You must not believe, Scott, all that these complimentary 
Orientals have to say." 

They remained but a day longer at Baroda. 

" I am in haste to be off," said Mr. Raymond, " for we 
must have important news at Allahabad soon. It will hardly 
take us longer to go by garri to Burhampur ; and by that 
means you can have a taste of very different travel, and see 
the first of the famous marble banks of the Narbada River. 
We cut off two long sides of a triangle in not going back 
again to Bombay, as we should have to, to go by 4*ail." 

Scott did not see the garri till all was ready for the 



3i8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

start. It came the night before, and was made ready before 
he was up in the morning. 

" What a wagon ! " was his first exclamation. 

"It is the regular dak garri, or post-chaise," replied 
Richard, laughing. " I intended hiring one of our own ; but, 




THE DAK GARRI. 



finding that the regular weekly post left this morning, which 
would secure us a much surer lot of fresh horses and a certain 
progress, I thought we would take it." 

" So we are going to carry the mail, are we? And what's 
that bed in there for?" 

" To sleep on at night," replied Richard. 

"At night? What will the hotel-keepers say?" 

" In two hours we shall be beyond where they know so 
much as the name. You'll see no more comforts, my boy, 
till you strike the railroad again." 

" Jew-pe-ter ! " said Scott. "That's not so bad. But I 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



319 



suppose we stop ten minutes now and then for refresh- 
ments." 

Comfortably seated on camp-ehairs, with the mattress dis- 
posed of in one end, and Moro and Sayad rolled up in one 
corner, they started off. Scott, as ever, was on the alert for 
every thing new; and "What is this?" and "What is that?" 
seeming to live upon the tip of his tongue. 

" Look at that," Richard said, as they were entering the 
first village. " That is a Mohammedan slaughter-house." 

" Hope they've stuck it outside the village far enough," 




THE SLAUGHTER-HOUSE. 



said Scott. "They must have the monopoly there, or they'd 
put it in where rents might be a little higher ; but the patron- 
age would be enough better to pay." 

" It wouldn't do here," replied Mr. Raymond. " This is 
a Marathi country, where every thing is Hindu. The Hindus 
don't believe in killing any thing, you know, and, most of 
all, a cow. So, if the Mussulmans want meat to eat, they 
have to come out here and get it, where it will not shock 
the nerves of the Hindus." 



320 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Why don't they import it from somewhere, and done 
with it ? " asked Scott. 

" Because they are so particular about the way it is killed. 
To make a piece of meat set well on a Mussulman's stomach, 
it must come from an animal that has had a prayer said over 
it while it was alive, and then been killed at a single blow, 
in the name of God." 

" I should hate to be a butcher," muttered Scott. 

They had nothing to complain of as to the speed of their 
conveyance. They had two horses, and sometimes three, 
harnessed one before the other, and native drivers, who, 
every one in turn, would boast that he could drive faster 
than any other man on the line, and then proceed to prove 
it. 

While they were changing horses, however, Scott obtained 
many an interesting view of native life. Once a curious 
individual was coming down the street, dressed in limitless 
rags, and shouting at the top of his lungs. 

'' A fakir f Scott said, turning to Mr. Raymond. 

"Not this time, but next to it, — a doctor on his way to 
visit some sick person." 

" Heaven have mercy on the sick man's soul ! " groaned 
Scott. 

" You would say so, indeed, if you could follow that doctor," 
replied Richard. " He will go to the house ; and unless some 
simple little thing is the matter, that he understands instantly, 
requiring some simple cure, he will begin and beat the poor 
patient, to make him confess that he has offended some god. 
Ten to one, the sick person has done something wrong within 
a short time, and will confess it. The doctor will advise 
the family to pay some some sort of a sacrifice ; tell them. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



321 



that, if the god that is offended is satisfied with their worship, 
the sick man will get well, and, if not, he will die. Then he 
will collect his fee, and go away." 

" I shouldn't think his practice would increase much at 
that rate," said Scott. 

" On the contrary, the more people who die under his 
care, the greater man he is thought to be. They say the 
doctor can only advise them, and that life and death are in the 
hands of God. Once, when I was going through one of these 
villages, I saw a poor fellow bitten by a snake ; and, having 
the antidote with me, I applied it instantly, and saved his 
life, to the astonishment of every one. But, as soon as it 
was sure that he was going to live, the family said, ' The 
wicked snake made a mistake that time : he must have bitten 
the wrong man.' " 

" That's interesting," said Scott. " You must have felt 
rewarded for your trouble. Is that the way they do business 
all over India?" 

" That is the old style ; but they are losing faith in it, 
thanks to modern civilization. In the large modern medical 
college of Madras they even admit women, and have several 
ladies there, who are actually taking the laurels away from 
the men." 

"Why, they won't let an American lady take a medical 
diploma in Harvard College," said Scott in surprise. 

"That's a fact, Scott," returned his friend; "but it would 
astonish these benighted heathen to tell them so." 

"That is a pottery, that we are passing now," he added 
a moment later. " See that fellow moulding with one hand 
and one foot, and that woman turning a reel with her hand, 
and moulding with both feet." 



322 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" That's doing business on all fours, — or three of them, 
at least," said Scott. " Is that where they make the stuff 
that our girls paint, and stick up on the shelf, and think so 
precious?" he added. 

"That is one of the very places; and it may be that 
you'll have one of those very jars some day, all covered with 




A NATIVE POTTERY. 



daisies, standing in the hall, pretending to hold umbrellas, 
when one wet one would spoil it." 

"How much do they cost?" Scott asked, with an eye to 
business. 

" Four or five cents apiece," replied Richard ; and they 
drove on. 

They reached the last station that they were to pass in 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



323 



the garri ; and sending Moro on with the baggage to wait 
for them at the next, — where they would meet him, and 
take another mode of conveyance over the mountains to the 
railway station, — Mr. Raymond and Scott, accompanied by 
Sayad, left the carriage, to make the next stage by the river. 
It was a little village, where the Narbada lay before them, 
stretching over a broad and beautiful plain. 




KARBADA RIVER. 



White-marble rocks glistened in every direction, emphasized 
by the dense green of the foliage and the profusion of flowers. 
A little boat lay against the bank: there was no wharf. In 
this boat they disposed themselves. It was late in the after- 
noon when the boatmen began to pull them up the river. 

The scene was inexpressibly beautiful. Long shadows crept 
across the water, and the boat was perfectly mirrored in that 



324 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

absolutely rippleless surface. There was not a motion of leaf 
or twig. Not a bird flew, or a bee hummed, in the still air ; 
and even the splash of the oars seemed to die on the water 
before it had gone far from the source. Up, up, up the river, 
slowly they went ; and down, down, down into the west, the 
sun sank. 

Scott thought he could almost see the sun dropping, as 
he saw the boat move ; but suddenly it appeared to him that 
it was dropping over a broad plain that they were leaving ; 
while, to rise again, it must come up beyond a high bluff 
that rose almost perpendicularly, over two hundred feet high, 
out of the water. He had understood that they had a long 
row before them ; as the boatmen pulled very slowly, and that 
there was a strong current against them. He saw no current, 
and looked in astonishment at that impregnable abutment of 
marble that effectually cut off any farther progress. 

"What's the matter, Mr. Raymond?" he asked. 

"Are you tired of this scene?" his friend responded. " If 
so, it will be changed in a moment, and you will have quite 
another. Keep your eyes aft. Don't look forward, or it will 
hurt the surprise." 

Scott obeyed, and in a few minutes realized that the water 
was bubbling and boiling about the boat ; and, by the way 
the boatmen grunted and half exploded in their eternal song, 
he knew that they must be having hard work. 

Still he kept his eyes aft, and watched the glow growing 
redder and redder on the water, that had been of the clearest 
azure when they started. 

He thought of the " Arabian Nights," and of some of 
those wonderful transformations, — of water-babies, with Mother 
Be-done-by-as-you-did putting a bandage on little Tom's eyes 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



325 



with one hand, while she took it off with the other ; and 
how Tom found, that, in that twinkhng, he had been taken 
up those wonderful and mysterious back-stairs, and was in a 
new world. 

And yet Scott was wholly unprepared for the remarkable 
transformation, when Mr. Raymond said to him, — 

" Now, Scott, shut your eyes, turn round, and then open 
them." 

Scott obeyed ; and, when he had opened his eyes, he 
started back in astonishment, and even forgot to say any 
thing about great Caesar's ghost. 

Instead of that broad mirror of silent, rose-red water, they 
were in the midst of a dashing, gurgling torrent, black as night. 
Instead of the sparkling white and green and blue, and the 
forests in the distance, there rose upon either side of him 
high walls, — high as the spires of the churches of Boston, 
— flashing and white as hoar-frost ; one solid, unbroken bank 
on either side, and only sixty feet apart. Instead of the abso- 
lute quiet that had reigned over all, there was a bedlam of 
chattering everywhere, for those marble walls were literally 
lined with monkeys ; and, the moment the boat entered the 
gorge, they began to chatter, while, far up against the blue 
sky, the tiny forms of peacocks could plainly be discerned, 
spreading their gorgeous tails in the sunlight, as it flashed 
along the upper cliffs. 

"What a shot!" Scott exclaimed when his admiration had 
cooled sufficiently for him to appreciate the fact that an 
enormous monkey was hanging, head down, over the water, 
clearly outlined against the marble, and only a hundred feet 
ahead of them. He went forward to get his rifle, that he 
had laid in the prow. 



326 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Better not shoot at him, Scott ; for you might possibly 
miss," suggested Richard. 

"What of it?" asked Scott, still preparing to shoot. "Then, 
again, I might hit ; and, if I did, I should have a stuffed mon- 
key to carry home." 

" Do you see those little brown balls all over everywhere ? " 
asked Richard, pointing up the ragged sides of the cliffs. 

"What are they?" asked Scott. 

" Bees' nests," returned Richard solemnly. 

"Bother the bees' nests!" said Scott. "I've seen them 
before in Massachusetts." 

" But you might glance your ball, and shake one of them," 
added Richard demurely. 

"What are they, — hornets?" asked Scott. 

" Honey-bees," returned Mr. Raymond. 
" Humph ! " replied Scott, as he shouldered his rifle. 
" Honey-bees can't see but thirty-eight feet anyway." 

"That may be; but they always manage to get within 
thirty-seven feet of any thing they want to sting," suggested 
Richard, so gravely that Scott lost his balance, and let his 
rifle fall, while he stopped to laugh. 

"We might get some honey by it; and I'll risk the sting- 
ing if you will," he said a moment later, as the monkey, who 
had moved a few feet farther up the river, came into another 
position quite as good as the first. 

" There'll not be much honey," replied Richard. " Those 
bees are neither used to working for the market, nor laying 
up a stock for a long winter. They only make for home 
consumption on rainy days, and it gives them a deal of time 
to spend in keeping- their stings in working order. I'm 
inclined to think you'd find more sting than honey." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



327 



Scott hesitated again. 

" Did you ever hear of any one getting badly stung here?" 
he asked. 

" I was floating down this gorge years ago, prospecting 
with an Enehsh enorineer. We were all alone in the boat ; 
for we were going down stream, and the boat was very small. 




THE MARBLE GORGE. 



Halfway down he fired at a big monkey, and brought down 
a bees' nest. I saw it fall, but thought nothing of it, till, 
in a moment, the very air seemed full of insects. They were 
as large as New-England black hornets. They sighted the 
boat. They settled down on us like hail. I had on only a 
thin shirt and linen breeches. Three or four of them stung 
me, and that was quite enough. There were as many as fifty 
upon me, looking Out for a good place to begin. ' Jump for 



328 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



your life ! ' cried the Englishman ; and, as he was my superior 
in the engineering party, I obeyed without waiting an instant, 
supposing that he followed me. I swam under water with the 
swift current ; but the fellows followed me, and every time I 
put my head above water to breathe, for over a mile, they 
were right upon me. At last I was beyond them and out 
of the gorge. I crawled up on to the bank down there ; and, 
while I waited for the boat, I picked off thirty-two of those 
bees, that had clung to me till they drowned. A little later 
the boat came down the stream. I swam out to it ; and 
there, in the bottom, lay the poor English engineer dead." 

" Stung to death by these bees," said Scott with a shudden 

" Stung to death," repeated Mr. Raymond. 

Scott laid down his rifle, and looked on in silence, as the 
sun set, and the moon rose white and clear over that spar- 
kling gorge. 

The crying of the peacocks, the chattering of the monkeys, 
the buzzing of the bees, — all was still. Now and then a fish 
rose ; and once they passed a lumbering crocodile lazily 
pushing himself up against the current. Where a moonbeam 
by chance reached the water, they could follow the shivering 
shaft far down into the black depths, and even see the white 
sides of the fish flashing in the light. 

" It must be good fishing here," Scott said a little later. 

"The fishing is good enough, but the fish are poor: they 
are soft." 

"There are not many caught, I should think, by the number 
left," said Scott. 

" Only the very poor people live on them," replied Mr. 
Raymond. "It is a curious thing: almost everywhere we are 
told that fish are good for brain-food ; but here, — in this 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 329 

region at least, — if a man is an idiot, or if one man or 
woman wants to call another a fool, they simply say ' fish- 
eater,' and that covers the whole ground." 

They slept in the boat that night, and in the morning 
found themselves made fast to a little landing, where an ox- 
garri, that Moro had sent for them, waited. 

It was not a two-days' trip over the hills : but, as it would 
take more than one daylight, Mr. Raymond thought it best 
to make two days of it, especially as they were a day earlier 
than they expected to be ; and he did not wish to have Scott 
overtax his strength. 

The passes through the hills were not bad. They were 
to go all the way in oy.- garris ; but there were no springs, 
and only two wheels ; and, as the bullocks started off at a 
trot, with a relentless driver seated on the pole between them, 
Scott was bounced up and down till he eagerly welcomed 
the rising ground that should force them to walk. The ser- 
vants and baggage came on in another garri. There were 
four extra coolies hired to push and pull if a wheel got into 
a rut, or in going up a hill so steep that the bullocks quietly 
refused to undertake it, which several times occurred. There 
was also a head servant to conduct the affairs ; making a 
retinue of nine servants, four bullocks, and two wagons, to 
do the work that one hack, two horses, and a hackman would 
have done in America. 

" It must be rather expensive travelling in this way," said 
Scott; "but it makes a fellow feel like a nabob." 

Richard replied, "This fellow contracts to take us for 
the tw^o days, and guarantees to land us safely or but half 
pay, for just four cents a mile. Then, our food by the way 
will cost perhaps a dollar more. The most expensive thing we 
have done so far was to visit the king." 



330 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" What ! didn't he pay the bills while we were his guests ? 
That's a pretty kind of hospitality ! " said Scott. 

" Oh, yes ! he paid all the bills," replied Mr. Raymond ; 
" but that was not the worst of it. He furnished us over 
twenty servants, including the elephant mahuts ; and every 
night, and the morning we left, the whole troop of them came 




LIKE THE CEDAKS OF LEBANON. 



for backsheesh, or presents. It is their custom. It cost about 
ten dollars a day just to keep them going. 

At the foot of the hills they plunged into the forest, and 
began the gradual climb. Pointing to the scraggy branches 
of gnarled trees growing on the opposite hillside, Mr. Raymond 
said, " Look at those, Scott. They are the famous deodas. 
They are the same as the cedars of Lebanon. These are not 
remarkable specimens ; but if we get up as far as the Hima- 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 331 

laya Mountains, which for your sake I hope we shall not, 
you'll see forests, miles in extent, where these trees average 
over two hundred feet in height." 

Every hour the jungle became more dense. 

" See that tree covered with snow ! " Scott cried, as they 
rounded a hill, and approached another valley. 

" It is not snow, Scott," said Mr, Raymond : "it is only 
one of the moss-oaks that has wandered out of Scind, where 
they are very plenty. In some of those valleys you would 
certainly think there had been a heavy fall of snow. The 
leaves are such a black-green that the sparkling moss looks 
even whiter than it really is." 

Moro ran past them while they were talking, and disap- 
peared in the jungle. 

" There's a village down there," Richard explained, — " one 
of the aboriginal towns. Moro came through here once before 
with me, and I fancy he made a friend there that he wants 
to see." 

A little later they had turned the hill themselves ; and 
Scott, who was looking eagerly forward, seeing only a few low 
mounds, with the road running past them, and Moro sitting 
on one side of the road, and two almost naked fellows on 
the other, exclaimed in disgust, — 

" A village ! I should call it a graveyard, I can see a few 
tombs, but where in the world is the village ? " 

" You can't see much of the village, for it is all under 
ground," replied his friend. "The aboriginal tribes do not 
pay much more attention to architecture than their fathers 
did, which was none at all. Those are the roofs of the houses 
that you see. The houses are all one hole scooped out of 
earth underneath." 



332 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Cool place to board in the summer-time," said Scott, 
who began to feel the oppressive heat of the enclosed valley. 

" When Moro and I came through here, we were obliged 
to stop for two nights and a day in this town," replied Richard. 
"There was as severe a storm as I ever saw in these hills. 
We were glad enough to reach here, I assure you ; and, as 




THE MOUNTAIN VILLAGE. 



there was no hotel in the place, we put up at the largest 
private residence." 

"Hotel!" exclaimed Scott. " Why, there are only five of 
those things you call houses in the whole valley." 

" Certainly," replied Mr. Raymond. "Three of them form 
the centre, don't you see, and they have the flag there for 
voting-day ; and then there are two more in the suburbs." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. t^t^t^ 

" But the hotel ! " said Scott again. 

" I said there was none," responded Richard. 

" Of course there was none ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Certainly : you are quite right," returned Richard ; and 
Scott began to realize that he was unnecessarily interrupting 
a story, 

"Well, we put up at that largest private residence: you'll 
see it in a minute. There it is down under the rocks there, 
to the right of the flag. When we got into the cellar, — 
that is all there is to it, — we found that it was a two-tene- 
ment house. There was no partition-wall ; but, by common 
consent, the goats lived in one half and the human beings 
lived in the other ; and the weather was so bad that the 
whole of both families were at home. There were a little 
over a dozen of the goats, but there were more than two 
dozen of the human beings. The goats were the cleaner by 
far ; for they were out-doors more, and had some of the dirt 
brushed off: so, for both comfort and elbow-room, we put 
up with the goats. Do you see that hole in the top ? " 

"That square hole? Yes," said Scott. "What is it, — 
a window ? " 

" We thought so," replied Mr. Raymond ; " for it is the only 
opening they had ; and, as that roof is two feet thick, it lets 
in only a little light at the best. But right under it, there is 
a hole in the floor like a washbowl, in which they have their 
fire. I spoke of the hole as a window. The old fellow cor- 
rected me. He said it was a chimney ; but that chimney was 
the only place in the whole house where that smoke did not 
go. It hung about the house till it died for want of exercise. 
The old fellow had a lot of eofSfs in a basket in one corner. 
He said he was waiting till some of his people went on a 



334 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



pilgrimage, to take them, and sell them in the crowd. The 
old fellow sold them very cheap. I took two dozen, and he 
urged me to take more. He even gave me a dozen ; for he 
said they were of no value to him, as he had set them so 
many times that his people did not like them, and he could 
not make one of them hatch." 

" Did you like the eggs ? " Scott asked, as the gharri drew 
up at a little brook to give the bullocks water. 

" It didn't matter much," replied Richard ; " for all I gave 
the man to cover my entire indebtedness was an old felt hat, 
an old coat, and a white umbrella. The fellow rigged himself 
out in them, and, with his seven wives arranged in a circle 
about his door, gave me a most honorable farewell." 




THE OLD MAN AND HIS WIVES. 



The next village they entered was of greater importance 
and more modern. A Hindu driving a bullock-load of straw 
down the street stopped to look at them. 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 335 

" That's the first time I have seen any one pay us so 
much attention since we landed," said Scott. "Why, if you 
should set one of these fellows down in America, the whole 
country would be at his heels every time he showed his head 
out-of-doors." 




A HINDU DRIVING BULLOCKS. 



"That is partly because they see more of us over here, 
but chiefly because they are very different people, and thor- 
oughly believe that whatever is, is right. They take things 
as they are, and care very little about what happens so that 
they are let alone. That is one of the worst features of the 
Hindu character. In Bengal," he added, " they call that fellow 
a raiyat ; and the straw he has on his wagon is rice, or 
padi as they say. It just turns American notions ot civil 
disturbances upside down." 



336 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"That's a fact," said Scott, laughing; "for it makes the 
raiyat raise the padi, while with us it is the Paddy that 
raises the riot. Good enough ! " 

They stopped for the night at the Dak Bungalow, — some- 
thing that takes the place of the old caravan-sarai, which 
still exists in many parts of the country. 

The Dak Bungalow was at the extreme end of the village. 
It was a picturesque little place, just on the border of a 
mountain lake, that reflected the hills opposite and the dense 
foliage like a mirror. Little native boats were slowly moving 
over the lake. The two travellers hired one for an anna 
(less than three cents) for as long as they wished it, and 
pushed out. 

"What a beautiful spot!" Scott exclaimed, looking up the 
steep hillsides, seeming to rise almost perpendicularly from 
the water on one side, while, on the other, rhododendrons 
grew more luxuriantly than he had ever seen them in America, 
to the very water's edge ; and white and red roses, in wild 
forests, filled the air with perfume. 

In the morning they were up early, for they had ordered 
the men to be ready at five o'clock for the start. They ate 
their breakfast, and waited. Nothing was to be seen of any 
one. 

"Where are they?" asked Scott. 

" Lounging about somewhere," replied Richard carelessly. 

They waited an hour. No one appeared. 

" You paid that fellow in advance, didn't you ? " asked 
Scott. 

"I paid him half: that is the custom. No native will do 
any thing unless he obtain something in advance. I;or the 
rest, it was safe delivery or no pay." 



AN ELEPHANl^ FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



ZZ7 



" I'll bet he's gone off," said Scott. 

" You'll lose your money if you do," replied Richard, 
laughing. " He's only lying round here somewhere, waiting 
for us to grow anxious, and offer him extra pay to go 
on. 

" Let's hire some one else," said Scott indignantly. 

" We can't do it, and he knows it," replied Richard. 
" There's not a vehicle in town that would take us." 

"Then we are at his mercy," growled Scott. 

" To some extent we are." 

Just then one of the coolies came up. 

" Where is your master ? " asked Richard. 

" Don't know, Sahib," replied the fellow. 

Richard lay down carelessly upon the bed ; and, calling 
to the keeper of the bungalow, he said, — 

" Have dinner ready for us at noon." 

The coolie did not seem inclined to move on ; and at 
length Richard said to him, — 

"Is your master still in the village?" 

" Yes, Sahib : he is down on the lake, fishing," he replied. 

" Go, and tell him that he may take his team, and drive 
back ; and I will send on one of my servants for another 
garri. I did not like the way he drove yesterday." 

" I am not hired to do errands : I must be paid for it," 
replied the coolie solemnly. 

Richard threw him a copper, and he went away. 

"Will he tell him that?" Scott asked, when the conversation 
had been explained to him. 

" Not by any means," replied Richard, laughing. " He 
will go no farther than the village drinking-shop ; and there he 
-will stop, and drink and smoke till the money is gone. Then 



338 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



he will come back for more. In the mean time the rest of 
the servants will appear, one by one." 

He was quite correct. One after another they came, in 
quick succession ; and each easily obtained his copper, and 
went off upon his errand. 

"What are you doing that for?" asked Scott indig- 
nantly. 

" It's less than eight cents," replied Richard ; " and now I 
am sure of them all. They are all at the coffee-house. Pretty 
soon the head man will turn up ; and we will go down there 
with him, and start the whole lot of them together. Before 
we could not have found more than one at a time." 

While he was speaking, the first coolie came back again. 

"Aha!" said Richard with a smile. "This is a new 
game. The leader has sent this fellow for his copper, instead 
of coming himself. It would be about as well to give it to 
him, and then go down, and take the whole ; but, instead, 
we'll have a little fun out of it." Then, turning to the coolie, 
he said quietly, — 

"Did you find him?" 

" Yes, Sahib," he replied ; " and he said he would come 
at once." 

"Is he here?" 

" No, Sahib : I do not see him." 

" Then he did not come." 

" No, Sahib. He had gone down the lake." 

" But you said that you found him." 

"How could I, Sahib? He was not there." 

"Do you know where he is now?" 

" Yes, Sahib. I saw the boat coming back over the lake, 
and I came here at once to tell you." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND MOUNTAIN RIDE. 339 

"Very well," said Richard, half rising. "We will go down 
to the lake, and meet him, and tell him ourselves." 

" But before this, Sahib, he will have landed and gone 
away," said the coolie, not at all disconcerted. 

" I can find him," replied Richard. 

" I will find him for you, Sahib, and bring him here for 
a half annaJ' 

"Very well. Bring him here^ and I will give you two 
annas. I want to thrash him." 

" When the Sahib pays me half in advance, I will go," 
replied the coolie. 

"Get out!" said Richard, starting to his feet. "I want 
to go down on the lake to sail now, and I don't want to be 
bothered." 

The coolie started off; and, in less than two minutes, the 
leader came hurrying up to the bungalow. 

" O Sahib ! " he cried, falling on his knees, " I am in 
terrible misery. I have been hunting all the time for a lost 
ox. He strayed away during the night. I'm a poor man : 
the loss will kill me and all my dear family. Help me, 
Maharajah ; help a poor dying man." 

" But one of your garri wallahs told me you were down 
on the lake, fishing," said Richard. 

"The fellow is a liar and a dog!" exclaimed the leader 
fiercely. " May he eat dirt, and be defiled ! May the wind 
be in his bones ! If I lie, master, may the sin be upon my 
head ! " 

" Then, we will start with one team, and hire some coolies 
here to drag the luggage," said Richard. 

" But, master, two of the other oxen are sick : they cannot 
move. Oh, I am undone ! I am undone ! " 



240 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" We will wait till to-morrow, and let them get well." 

" They will not get well : they are dying, Sahib. And, 
beside, there is a party coming from the South to-day — a 
very large party — who will require the bungalow. The Sahib 
has no tents : what can he do ? " 

"Do? Why, I will start on, and walk. I'll pay enough 
to induce the whole village to come out, and carry me on 
their backs. Don't fear. There are a hundred things I can 
do. If you are not here with the two teams in just half an 
hour, I shall do something, but I shall not go with you." 

" If the Sahib would give a little present to a poor man " — 

" But I shall not give you a present, and in a half-hour 
I shall not be here." 

" An hour, Sahib ! an hour ! " pleaded the prostrate man. 
" My servants are all off looking for the ox." 

" No, they're not : they are all down at the drinking- 
house," replied Richard. 

" Just a little present. Sahib." 

" Not the smallest in the world. No : if you are good, 
when we reach the end you shall have a present, but not 
before." 

" I will be here in ten minutes, Sahib," replied the fellow ; 
and in three-quarters of an hour he was on hand. 

" He will do that same thing again when we get out into 
the woods," said Richard as they started. "And if he is wise, 
and strikes where it is bad walking, he will get the best of 
me ; but, if it is good going, we will get Moro and Sayad 
to throw off the lugfeagfe from his cart, and we will start on. 
That will bring him to terms." 

"Why don't you pound him?" asked Scott. "I'll try it, 
if you will back me if he gets the best of me." 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



341 



"That is one point, Scott, where the British government 
has not only done enough for the Hindu, but too much. 
There are times when a thrashing is a good thing for a man ; 
but the Hindus are weak and vexing, and the Enghshmen 
are strong and quick-tempered. A few years ago there were 
several cases where native servants were actually brutally 
beaten. The government took it in hand, and has made it a 
grave offence to strike a native. The natives know it, and 
have grown decidedly worse under it. See that tea-house 
that we are passing, up on the hill there," he added, pointing 
to a low, long building, where was a crowd of natives busily 
engaged. "They are raising tea all over North India now, 
and making a good thing of it on the high land." 

" But do you mean that they will really punish an Eng- 
lishman for striking a native if he has cause?" asked Scott. 

" Certainly they will." 

"That's a healthy way of doing things!" said Scott scorn- 
fully. " Do you know, Mr. Raymond, it strikes me that India 
is the greatest muddle imaginable. One minute I think it 
the perfect heaven of earth. I think I would always live here. 
I make up my mind, that, as soon as I am a man, I will 
come back. Then I think it is a horrid place. I hate every 
thing about it, and I wish I had not to stay a day here." 

" That's because it is a rough ploughed field now, between 
the old style of doing things and the new. Where you see 
either one alone, it is good; but where they come together, 
look out. It will all be smooth again by and by." 

They reached the railway-station without another demand 
for backsheesh : in return for which Richard doubled the present 
he had intended to give the leader and his servants, and sent 
them off the happiest and most devoted set of fellows in the 
world. 



342 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" They are grateful vagabonds, after all," said Scott, feeling 
his heart grow warm toward the rude natives, and forgetting 
the struggle to get them started that morning. 

"They seem so now," replied Richard. "But we have a 
half-hour more before the train starts ; and, if I am not mis- 
taken, the most of them will be back again, complaining about 
something, and asking for more, before we get away." He 
was quite correct. 

"What's all that fancy-work, around that collection of 
broken-down shanties over there ? " Scott asked, as they 
started for a short walk, and approached several very large 
and low native buildings in miserable dilapidation. The 
ground about them was covered with something of the most 
brilliant coloring. 

"That is a goolie-shop," replied Mr. Raymond. "That is 
where they dye cloths and mats in those magnificent shades 
that our- people have tried so long — and all in vain — to 
imitate." 

" Can't we come up to an establishment like that?" asked 
Scott, looking scornfully at the dilapidated goolie-shop. 

The first train to leave was " a local," or accommodation. 

"I am glad of it," Mr. Raymond remarked: "for, though 
a local is the most disagreeable thing in India to travel on, 
it will give us a few hours in Jabalpur to wait for the night- 
express from Bombay to Allahabad ; and I have a permit that 
will admit us to the great Thuggi prison there." 

"The what?" asked Scott. 

" The prison where the condemned Thugs are confined. 
I want you to see them." 

" And what in the world are they ? " 

" They are the very worst side of India," replied Mr. Ray- 



AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 



343 



mond. " If we go north from Allahabad, as I expect we shall, 
you will see much of the magnificent side of one of the 
grandest empires the sun ever shone upon. But ancient 
India had bad features too, and the system of Thuggi was 
one of the worst," 

While they were on the way to Jabalpur, Mr. Raymond 




THE DYE-HOUSE 



and Scott talked over that terrible system that England has 
finally succeeded in crushing. 

Mr. Raymond explained that it was a great secret society, 
with watchwords and passwords, and signals as elaborate as 
those of Freemasonry. Even the wives and relatives of the 
greatest Thugs in the land often did not know by what 
occupation they made their fabulous fortunes. Literally they 



344 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

were murderers and robbers. They professed to be humble 
devotees of the terrible goddess Bhawani, — the wife of Siva, 
the Destroyer in the Hindu triad. She is the same as the 
Kali, whose idol Paul saw on the banks of the Jumna, while 
seated on the broad shoulder of Dhondaram. 

She is believed to exist upon the blood of the dead, and 
the Thugs committed their murders to supply her with victims. 
Then they robbed the dead to supply themselves with wealth. 
To prevent noise and blood-stains and occasional failures, 
they did their murdering with a ruinal, or knotted handker- 
chief, which they threw over the head of the victim from 
behind, and, by a peculiar twist, strangled the man before he 
could utter a cry. 

They went in organized companies, over systematically laid- 
out routes. They went as other travellers, professedly upon 
some business. Before the railways were laid out, all the 
merchandise of India had to be transported by travellers, and 
all the gold going from place to place had to be carried in 
the same way ; so that their opportunities were almost unlim- 
ited. 

Their operations were hard to detect : for the travellers 
were often obliged to take long journeys, and, as the mode 
of travelling was very slow, they were often gone from home 
for months ; and, even if they were murdered by the way, 
there was rarely any reason to find it out till long after the 
robbery was committed. The Thugs were careful, too, to 
leave no track behind them, and to leave no one to tell the 
story ; and they generally succeeded. 

The pickaxe, with which they dug the graves, was the 
sacred emblem of the society. They held a religious service 
over it before they started on the pilgrimages. They were 



346 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



very superstitious fellows : they believed that the goddess 
directed them by all sorts of signs. 

All this, and a host of anecdotes from his own experience, 
Mr. Raymond related to Scott, — making the local seem like 
a flying express, so short was the time before they reached 
the beautiful town of Jabalpur, lying in a protecting valley 
open to the sun and the bracing mountain air (for they had 
reached a high elevation) ; while in the distance the Narbada 
River, that Scott looked upon as an old friend almost, was 
circling its way through the sand, like a silver thread in the 
sunlight. The first of the marble gorges is ten miles below. 

Scott shuddered as they were led down into the solid- 
walled stone vaults where the Thugs were confined. 

There were seven of them, crouching like caged panthers 
in the corner of one cell. 

" Ugh ! " said Scott. " I should not like to tackle those 
fellows in a free fight in the dark, even if they had forgotten 
their rumals." 

"They're not at all savage-looking fellows," replied Mr. 
Raymond. " See that one standing in the corner at the left : 
he's as grentle as a kitten." 

" Maybe, but I'd rather be excused," said Scott. " But 
what a stylish twist that fellow's got on his mustache ! — the 
one that is sittino- down in front of him. And what awful 
side-whiskers that next one in the middle has got ! " 

"That used to be all the style in India," said Richard, 
" Have you not noticed men going about the street with their 
faces all done up in cloth ? " 

" Yes, indeed ! and I thought they had the toothache 
from smoking too much of a hookah.'' 

" They had been shampooing their beards with a prepara- 



' AN ELEPHANT FIGHT AND A MOUNTAIN RIDE. 347 

tion that would harden a little in time, and had bound them 
back in that way to make them stay in the fashionable posi- 
tion." 

" What fools ! " muttered Scott. 

Richard laughed, "American ladies do precisely that same 
thing ; and they use a preparation that they call bandoline, 
that is copied from this very material the Hindus use." 

" I've seen a bottle of that on my mother's bureau ; and 
I've seen her go about, while she was dressing, with a white 
cloth over her forehead. Guess she'll stop it double-quick 
when I tell her about that gent sitting down there." 

" Do you think she will if it is the fashion in America to 
use it ? " asked Mr. Raymond. 

" Never thought of that," replied Scott. " But she's presi- 
dent of the Society, you know ; and she's an awful reformer." 

" But reformers stick closer to fashion than any other class 
of people in the world. It's only an odd fashion, that's all." 

But the time was up ; and they had to leave for the station, 
and establish themselves on the express for Allahabad, — a 
city almost in the centre of India as far as the great railway 
and river systems are concerned, with a name that, Mr. 
Raymond explained to Scott, meant " the City of God." 



348 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XIX. 

THUGS AND TRAITORS. 

'HE first view that Scott obtained of the City of God 
was the immense railroad-bridge crossing the river. 
"What river is this?" he asked; and, looking 
more closely, he exclaimed again, "Why, what is 
the matter with it ? One side is white, and the other is black." 

"This is the confluence of the Ganges and the Jumna 
Rivers," replied Mr. Raymond, " The Ganges is supposed to 
flow from the mouth of Bramha : it is the most sacred water 
in the world. Then the Jumna is very sacred ; and, to make 
a collection here that cannot be equalled, they have arranged 
a plan by which the Sirasvati, — the Divine River coming 
directly from the throne of Bramha by an invisible passage — 
joins the two here." 

"That's not so bad," said Scott; "but what is it makes 
the water all black one side, and white the other ? " 

" Because the Ganges and Jumna, though they rise very 
near together, flow through such different soil that one is 
muddy and the other clear. That is all, and they hate to 
mingle." 

The hotel was in an open square opposite the old fort 
and palace compound, near the river. The fort rose up per- 
pendicularly out of the water. 

The letters which Mr. Raymond received were important, 
but not explicit. 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



349 



" We must go to Benares to-night, instead of to the North 
as I expected. I struck the right track the first time, but 
it remains to be seen what will come out of it. Do you 




THE OLD FORT. 



remember the man who rode with us part of the way from 
Liverpool to London ? He gave me the name of an intimate 
friend of Dennett's, in many a rascally game here, — an 



350 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

infamous half-caste, who has such a pecuHar knack in handhng 
native laborers that he keeps himself in employment as an 
overseer or foreman. I found that he was finishing some 
embankments on the road to Mogul Sarai, opposite Benares, 
and sent to him right away." 

" I should have thought that would be dangerous," said 
Scott. 

"So it might have been," replied Richard, " but that I 
have had occasion to bother him a little already, and he 
knows that it is in my power to give him as much trouble 
as I like : so, when he found out that I had my eye on him 
in this matter, he owned up to it instantly." 

"To knowing about Paul?" exclaimed Scott, white with 
excitement. 

" Yes, to knowing about Paul." 

Scott sprang to his feet ; and, throwing his arms round 
Richard's neck, he gave him a resounding kiss before he 
remembered that he was no longer a boy. 

" But you must be patient, Scott. It may be very hard 
work to learn much, and harder still to do much. We can 
only go to Benares, and see what we can do." 

"Can't we start before to-night?" asked Scott anxiously. 

" Patience, patience, my boy ! " said Richard gently. " I 
know exactly how you feel ; but, if we hurry, we shall do 
much more harm than good. We shall have to go so slowly, 
and act so indifferently, that I fear you will be angry with 
me a hundred times." 

"No, never!" exclaimed Scott. 

" Don't promise, Scott. If you are angry, speak it out, 
and perhaps I can explain it ; and, whenever we have a chance 
to, be sure that I shall go as fast as steam or animals can 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



351 



carry us. But remember this : that, if you move slowly after 
a tiger carrying away a lamb, the chances are, he will run 
from you, dropping the sheep ; if you rush upon him, he 
will make a stand, and strike to keep his prey ; and, if you 
press him too hard, he will be very apt to tear his prey in 
pieces, even though he give you an opportunity to kill him 
while he is doing it." 

"I will remember," said Scott bravely; "but I wish that 
there were something we could be doing now." 

" We will take a walk," replied Richard, " and after dinner 
we will sleep for a few hours ; for we shall reach Benares at 
about two in the morning, which will break our rest." 

" Sleep ! " exclaimed Scott ; but Mr. Raymond looked at him. 
He knew what it meant, and replied, " Of course I will try." 

They walked through the low^er native quarter by the 
river, and on to the banks of a little stream. There they sat 
down in the shadow of some overhanging branches. 

"Are there any Thugs now free?" asked Scott, thinking 
of Paul. 

" Oh, yes ! " replied Richard. " Not as a band, and not 
as murderers, for that is entirely broken up ; but some of 
the most notorious are still at large, escaping every endeavor 
to capture them." 

"Did you ever see one out of the prisons?" asked Scott. 

" Yes : I once saw a very notorious fellow, — Dhondaram," 
replied Mr. Raymond. 

" I thought you told me he was a muni," said Scott. 

" He is a muni, and a Thug too ; and in the mutiny he 
was one of the most influential leaders. Since then he has 
been the terror of every native, great and small, wlio fought 
with the English in that struggle for the freedom of India." 



352 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"What has he done to them?" 

"He has murdered over fifty of those men that he calls 
traitorS; already, to the knowledge of the government, and " — 

" Can't any one find him ? " asked Scott impatiently. 

" They can find him. They hear of him very often. Sev- 
eral times of^cers have almost laid their hands on him. The 
government offers a reward of ten thousand dollars for his 
head, and yet he lives." 

"What would they do with him if they should find him?" 
asked Scott. 

"Hang him; starve him to death; cut him up, — any 
thing, I fancy," replied Mr. Raymond, with a cold, metallic, 
vindictive ring in his voice, that made Scott shudder and 
suddenly look up, to see a frown darker and sterner than he 
had imagined could ever have shadowed the face of the 
invariably calm and gentle Richard Raymond. 

"The British government would not do that, Mr. Ray- 
mond ! " he exclaimed. 

" The British government, Scott ! Is the British govern- 
ment responsible for what her ofScers may chance to fancy 
wise in an emergency ? If so, Scott, then the British govern- 
ment was actually outrageous and horrible and barbaric in 
its dealings during the mutiny with the Hindus. At the 
very outbreak fifty rebelling sepoys in Col. Nicholson's com- 
mand were tied to the mpuths of British cannon, and 
blown to pieces. A young sepoy twenty years old, whose 
turn it was next to be executed, came up to the officer, and 
smiling in his face, and tenderly stroking the ugly gun, said, 
' There's no need to bind me, captain : I am not going to 
run away.' On the 30th of July, 1857, over a thousand pris- 
oners were bound and shot by the English, really to get rid 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



353 



of them ; and fifty who escaped were recaptured, and put in 
prison, where they starved to death. On the 28th of August 
nearly seven hundred helpless fellows were put to death. 
On the 23d of September, after the British took Delhi, two 




"THERE'S NO NEED TO BIND ME, CAPTAIN.' 



of the king's sons, who had fled to the sixty-four-pillared 
hall out in the plain, were found there, lying unarmed on 
the altar ; and, though they pleaded for mercy, they were shot 
in cold blood by a British' officer who ha^d a squad of soldiers 
behind him. Three other men of the royal family surrendered 



354 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



themselves to the officer in command, who had them taken 
in their coach to the large square ; and there, before his 
soldiers, he got into the coach, made them strip their breasts, 
and shot them, each one, in cold blood. At Cawnpore 
nearly two thousand sepoy prisoners were shot at com- 
mand of the British officer ; and, before they died, many 
were condemned to lick with their tongues the spots of blood 




SCENE OF THE MASSACRE OF TWO THOUSAND HINDUS BY THE BRITISH. 



in the palace, where they had been commanded by Nana 
Sahib to kill his English prisoners, to prevent them from 
being retaken by the British. At Jhansi the harem was 
sacked, and many captive Hindus were either hung or shot ; 
till the moat of the palace of the Rani Bai, the queen, was 
filled with the bodies of the dead." 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 355 

"Why did they take a queen's palace?" asked Scott with 
a shudder. 

" Because she was one of the most zealous in the struggle 
for the freedom of her country," replied Mr. Raymond; "be- 
cause Sir Hugh Rose, of the British army, reported to 
Parliament that the most dangerous and the fiercest man 
opposing England was the Rani Bai, the queen." 

" I have read of terrible atrocities perpetrated by the 
Hindus, but nothing of this," replied Scott. 

" Of course not," said Richard. " And can you not see 
why not ? " 

" I read a terrible story the other day in the hotel, about 
a massacre by the Hindus at Cawnpore." 

" Every one reads of that," replied Richard with a 
frown. 

" I thought the Hindus were all to blame." 

" Every one thinks so," replied Richard, " Yes, that was 
a terrible massacre. Nana Sahib was at the. head of the rebels 
in that quarter. He was as much of a fiend as some of the 
English officers. He ordered his soldiers to go into ambush 
on the steps of a low temple leading down into the water, 
and, as soon as the barges with the English prisoners came 
past the temple, to open fire upon them till all were dead. 
This many of his soldiers refused to do ; though they were 
fighting for their very lives and homes and families, and were 
only ignorant Hindus at the best. He could not drive them 
or persuade them. He was forced to gather a promiscuous 
crowd, and, by wine and bribery, forced them to do the 
bloody work. The British army came still nearer ; and Nana 
Sahib heard from every side of the fearful deaths his people 
were dying at their hands, and of their merciless marches. In 



356 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



his fury he ordered the women who were his captives to be 
killed at the last moment, when it was certain that the Brit- 
ish were upon him." 




^^ 













^S^'^^'^x-^ '-*?- 



<^;,tV'^W 



THE SCENE OF NANA SAHIB'S MASSACRE OF THE BRITISH. 



"Their bodies were thrown into a well, were they not?" 
asked Scott. 

" Yes : into the well that is now the famous Scar of 
Cawnpore, kept fresh in British memory by a chapel that has 
been built over it, and a marble angel that stands directly 
over the well." 

"What started the mutiny?" asked Scott. 

" Too much of a complication for us to discuss just now," 
replied Richard. 

"And you said that that Dhondaram was one of the 
leaders ? " said Scott a moment later, for there seemed to be 
some strange fascination that was drawing him continually 
toward that name. 

" Yes : he was the right hand of Nana Sahib," replied 
Richard. 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



357 



"Is he really a very bad man?" 

"I do not know, Scott," replied Richard with a sigh. 
"These Hindus are not of our world. What seems very 
wrong to us seems right to them. God may have some 
different way of judging them than by our codes of laws." 

"Was he as bad as Nana Sahib?" asked Scott. 

" I think not," replied Richard. " He was a very different 
man. He was a religious teacher, in the first place. He was 
a frantic fanatic. He is certainly a brave man. When the 
rebellion sprang up, he entered into it heart and hand. I 
saw him myself once on the porch of a temple, sword in hand, 
in a crowd of Bramhans, crying to the people to rise and 
free tPiemselves. Roderick Dennett and I were together that 
day. We had a narrow chance of it in escaping, and the 
report that we took to the British authorities gave us our 
first fair start in India." 

Mr. Raymond was silent. The old times were coming 
back too fast to be lived again with indifference. 

"How did that help you?" Scott asked. 

" It did not help me so much as it did Dennett at the 
time," Richard replied. " It brought me into notice afterward; 
but Roderick was older than I, and took the lead in those 
days. He received an appointment at once to keep track of 
Dhondaram ; but, instead of doing it, he really turned the 
muni's friend, and sold much information to Dhondaram, for 
which he received a good price. But, to wind up, Dennett 
at last offered to find Dhondaram for the government, for a 
thousand pounds and pardon for several crimes for which he 
was imprisoned. Dhondaram found it out just in time to save 
himself. Then Dennett left India for England. He was fol- 
lowed there, and nearly caught ; but at last he escaped, and 



358 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



went to America. When we ran away from Beverly, we went 
under false names ; and when Dennett reached America ao-ain, 
no one ever knew what sort of a character he had been, 




PREACHING THE INSUKKECTION. 



until he showed them in Boston, a little while ago, the kind 
of a man he really was." 

" I should have thought he would have been afraid to come 
back here to India," said Scott. 



THUGS AND TRAITORS. 



359 



" To any other country he would have been afraid," repHed 
Richard ; " but here the European population is continually 
changing-. I know very few indeed now who were here when 
I was a boy. People forget, too, in a land like this. Any 
thing that is out of sight for a little while is out of mind 
forever. Only his old associates would remember him, and to 
them he could go in safety. That is why I was so sure of 
hitting him soon, and why I succeeded at once." 

"Wouldn't Dhondaram remember him?" asked Scott. 

" If he is alive, he will remember him : there is no doubt 
of that," replied Richard. " But it is time we were taking 
our nap. Let us go to the hotel." 



36o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XX. 
PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 

COTT ! Scott ! this is Mogul Sarai. We have reached 
Benares," said Richard Raymond, gently stroking 
Scott's forehead as the boy lay asleep in the night- 
express. 

Scott started up with a cry. 

" Excuse me," he said an instant later, rubbing his eyes. 
** I had a dream. I thought that Dhondaram was carrying 
Paul away. 

" I thought Benares was a large city," added Scott wonder- 
ingly, as he stood on the platform. 

" So it is a large city, Scott, but on the other side of the 
river. They could not put the station on the other side ; for 
the Hindus consider Benares as holy ground, resting on the 
back of a divine mud-turtle, and they fought so hard against 
a railway that they had to put the station on this side the 
river." 

"What was it that coolie just said to you?" asked Scott. 

" He has a lantern, and I suppose he wants us to follow 
him to a boat. I could not understand him." 

" I thought you understood all their languages," said Scott. 

"There are over seventy entirely different languages spoken 
in India, beside a host of dialects," he replied. " It would 
take a lifetime to learn them all." 

There were three boats waiting on the bank. They were 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 361 

miserably weak affairs, even as seen in the dim lantern-light ; 
but the man who had led them down proved to be the post- 
office employee with the mail-bag ; and, thinking that the 
mail-boat would probably be as safe as any, they followed 
him, much to^ the disgust of the other boatmen, who, as 
soon as they were under way in the muddy, rushing river, 
attempted to show them what a mistake they had made in 
point of speed. This excited the oarsmen of the mail-boat. 





and the three boats creaked and bent as they were pushed 
through the water. 

The yellow water splashed in their faces, and the little 
waves made the boats rock. Scott began to fear they might 
have a shipwreck there in the Ganges, but Richard only 
laughed. 

"This is the first time in my life," said he, "that I have 
needed to urge a native to go slower, instead of giving him 
backsheesh to hurry." 

By dint of utmost exertion they avoided striking a clod 



362 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

of some sort that was floating in the river. The next boat, 
not so fortunate, hit it fairly, and sent two of the three boat- 
men overboard, much to the amusement of those in the other 
boats, who did not stop pulHng for an instant, but left them 
in the water. 

"What in the world was that?" asked Scott. 

"A cow going to glory," replied Richard solemnly. 

" What ! " exclaimed Scott, seeing that there was a joke 
somewhere, but being quite too sleepy to take it in. 

" Why, the Ganges is very sacred, you know ; and when 
an animal dies whose master hopes to own it again in the 
sweet by and by, he just throws it into the river, instead 
of burying it. When men die, they burn them, and throw 
their bones in too ; for they believe, that, in some way, this 
river flows back again into the mouth of Bramha, from whence 
it comes." 

" Must be as nourishing as Cochituate water in Boston 
in midsummer by the time it gets back again to the spot that 
it starts from. I wonder if Bramha has a filter in his throat," 
said Scott. 

Had it been daylight, they would have obtained a view 
of the holy city, lying on the opposite bank, that would have 
occupied Scott's entire thoughts ; but, as it was, they landed 
as much in the dark as they embarked. Still, there was no 
appearance of the city anywhere. 

" Now we rnust take a garri, and ride for nearly two 
miles," said Richard, as they walked up the bank. 

" What in the world did they stick the city off in such an 
awkward spot for ? " muttered Scott, whose drowsiness made 
mountains out of mole-hills. 

" It was a great mistake," replied Richard seriously ; " but 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 363 

you see, three or four thousand years ago, when they laid 
the foundations of Benares, they did not figure, as they should, 
on the probability of its growing to sufficient size to require 
a railway." 

They easily made a bargain, as there were several drivers 
on hand, and they were the only passengers, and were soon 
rattling down an ill-paved street in a poor imitation of an 
English cab. 

Here and there dim shadows of huts could be distinguished 
along the way ; and now and then a low fire was smouldering 
in the middle of the street, and around it sat a few nearly 
naked natives, either sleeping, or shivering like pet hounds in 
the winter. But, awake or asleep, they did not move when 
the garri rolled by. It had to turn out for fire and men 
together. 

" If I were driving, I would run over one of those fellows 
now and then, to teach them better than to build their bon- 
fires in the street," said Scott, after they had turned out for 
a dozen or more. 

" But they are the great guardians of the peace," replied 
Mr. Raymond. "They are the native police of Benares," 

"What do they want those fires for? It is hot enough 
to roast." 

"So it is, but that is only custom. The fellows would 
sit on those fires and roast in reality if it were custom, and 
their fathers had roasted there before them." 

" But what do they go to sleep for if they are policemen ? 
Is that custom too ? " 

"It is just that exactly. They have nothing to do but be 
on hand, where they can be called if there is trouble ; then 
to look on carefully, see the whole with unprejudiced eyes, 



3^4 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



report it to the jemadas in the morning : and the soldiers 
will then arrest the offenders. These fellows would not know 
how to make an arrest, even if they dared to, in the night." 

Where the huts by the roadside were near enough, it often 
happened that they saw a row of heads lying over the door- 
sill. At last, however, they reached the Dak Bungalow, where 
Richard preferred stopping, that they might remain in seclu- 
sion. 

"It is a very pretty spot," Scott said, as he looked out 
of the broad door that stood open to admit the breeze, when 
he woke in the morning. There was a little lawn about the 
bungalow, with several tropical trees growing upon it. " But 
what are those natives there for ? Is it to see some Ameri- 
cans?" he asked, pointing to a dozen or more Hindus who 
were seated on the green lawn. 

"They want to see us on business," replied Richard. 

" Business ? " exclaimed Scott, thinking of Paul. 

" Nothing of importance," Richard hastened to add. " Only 
that, as soon as they see we have finished breakfast, they will 
all come in with all sorts of native merchandise to sell." 

" I don't want any of their stuff," said Scott impatiently. 

" Every one says so," replied Richard ; "but they are good 
salesmen. We have not much time to spare ; but this is one 
of the sights of India, and we will wait a few minutes for it. 
I warrant, that, before you know they have even tried to sell 
you any thing, you'll be wishing you could purchase the lot." 
He was quite correct. 

They scarcely spoke a word, only now and then making 
some slight remark about the place that some treasure came 
from, as they undid their bundles, and spread upon the floor 
about them a tempting array of every thing imaginable that 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 365 

India furnished. Mr. Raymond occupied the time in writing 
and sending a note to the foreman, instructing him to meet 
him at the bungalow at one o'clock. When he had finished, 
he looked up, and asked, — 

"Well, how do you find it, Scott?" 

" You did not tell me they had such jolly things," said 
Scott. 

" No : I left you to find that out for yourself. What do 
you want ? " 

" I should like that little Cashmere cap, or perhaps two 
or three of them, to carry home ; and I should like some of 
those sandal-wood cases so beautifully carved ; and those 
peacock-feather fans are beautiful, and — well, I don't know; 
that ivory box would be a splendid present for mother, and 
those embroidered silk handkerchiefs are wonderful. How 
Bess would like them ! She must have them. And I should 
like one of the hookahs, too, just to show the boys what fire- 
engines they smoke through, you know." 

" But I thought you didn't want any of their stuff," said 
Richard, smiling. Scott had forgotten his remark. 

" There are over one thousand temples in this city," said 
Richard, as they started for a drive. "It is almost entirely a 
Hindu city, but there is one Mohammedan mosque. First I 
am going to take you out on the river, and then to the top 
of the observatory, that you may see , the whole. Most of the 
temples crowd upon the river, and from them marble steps 
extend down into the water for the bathers. Then we will 
see all we can of the best of the temples near the river 
before dinner, and afterward drive to the distant ones." 

They reached the river in the carriage, and dismissed it. 
Seating themselves in a curious boat with a fancy canopy to 



366 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



protect 'them from the sun, a half-dozen oarsmen pushed them 
past the miles of marble ghats (or steps) leading into the 
water. They were dark with bathers. All sorts and sizes of 
people, crowded their way into the water, dressed just as they 
had come from the street, and just as they were going back 
again into the street as soon as their clothes were dry. There 
were broad, flat umbrellas, — a forest of them, — under which 




TEMPLES BY THE KIVER. 



bathers were sitting on the steps, waiting for an opportunity 
to go into the water. Those already there would take the 
, dirty water, and pour it over their heads, repeating a prayer, 
and touch it to their lips and breasts, still praying. Sometimes 
a carcass would float down, and become entangled in the 
bathers ; but they would only push it out of their way, and 
go on praying. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 367 

" Are there no crocodiles here ? " asked Scott. 

" Lots of them," repHed his friend ; " but they are fed so 
well up the river and down that they rarely venture into the 
crowd. There was a sensation here a while aeo, however, 
when a crocodile was several times seen and often felt. He 
would grasp by the legs the women that were bathing, and 
often succeed in pulling off their gold and silver ornaments 
that they wear about their ankles. They dared do nothing 
to disturb him, for he is one of the most sacred animals of 
India. But his depredations were suddenly stopped one day, 
when a crocodile's head rose out of the water with a fearful 
cry. There was another crocodile close behind. Suddenly 
the one behind gave a bound, opened his mouth, grasped 
something just beneath the water, gave it a shake. The head 
flew off, and all saw the body of a native beneath it for an 
instant, as it went down in the jaws of a genuine article." 

"What was it?" asked Scott. 

" Why, a fellow who put on the head to deceive the bathers, 
and then, swimming under water, robbed the women of their 
jewels." 

" Good enough for him," replied Scott. " But what is that 
pile of wood there for ? " 

" That is at the top of the burning ghats. There are no 
bathers there ; but at night there are fires all along the ghats, 
where they are burning the dead. We shall round yonder 
corner in a moment, and you will see them better. Before 
we are out of sight, look at those two tall towers. They are 
the minarets of the mosque." 

The boat rounded the corner, shutting out the distant 
minarets, but bringing into better view the temples and the 
burning ghats. 



368 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" The most beautiful bathing ghats in the world are not far 
from here. I wish we could have stopped there, and have seen 
them as we came through Mirzapur on the way to Benares. 
They are of pure white marble, with magnificent ornamental 
work, and a little temple at the top, and a wonderful balcony 
of carved marble. It is enough to make one want to go in 
bathing just to see it." 




BURNING THE DEAD. 



" Unless the water is cleaner than it is here, I think I should 
rather be excused," said Scott, shaking his head. 

" If you once saw the place, especially by moonlight, you'd 
change your mind, I fancy," replied Mr. Raymond. "It's almost 
enough to make one wish he were a heathen, just for half an 
hour. Only long enough to wash his sins away, you know." 

They left the boat just below the ghats, and turned into 
one of the narrow streets, — so narrow, and with houses so 
high, that the opposite eaves seemed almost to touch. All 
along the street there were little booths, where all sorts and 
sizes of idols were for sale ; and the streets were filled with 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 369 

pilgrims in rags and dirt, and princes and rajahs in magnifi- 
cent costumes, all seeking the holy water ; and priests with- 
out number, with scanty clothing or flowing robes, and long 
silken beards that they never cut. Munis were everywhere, 
and there were monkeys in every alley and on every roof. 
In the most crowded parts of every street, there were cows 
contentedly feeding on offerings that those who passed were 




THE BEAUTIFUL MARBLE GHATS. 



continually making to them. Some of the cows had garlands 
of flowers about the horns or necks. 

" I should think it was Decoration Day," said Scott. " And 
what in the world is the matter there ? " he added, pointing 
to two men and a woman who were flat on their faces before 
one of the cows, right in the thick of the throng threading 
the narrow alley. 



370 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"The cow is sacred. They are only saying a prayer before 
her : that is all," replied Richard. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " muttered Scott, as he carefully 
stepped over the extended legs of one of the devotees. 

They climbed by a long, winding staircase, through dust 
and dirt, to a broad, flat roof, raised high above the surround- 
ing buildings. 




THE OBSERVATORY. 



"This is one of those observatories I was telling you about," 
said Richard. " Look at these dials for the sun and moon, 
and this complex affair to regulate the Luna dials to the differ- 
ent months, and this block of marble, with a little groove in 
it pointing up to the North Star. Then there are a host of 
other things that I know nothing about, that you will under- 
stand when you study astronomy. This is one of the most 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 371 

modern observatories in India, and most of these things were 
copies from others much older; but even these were here 
when we were ready to hang Galileo for the first and simplest 
discoveries that he made with his little telescope. 

" We ! " said Scott. " They never asked me what I thought 
about it, or I should have told them to leave it to these 
heathen to settle the matter. And wouldn't the old Pope 
have been mad ! What a bull he would have sent to doze 
me ! " 

The view from the summit of the observatory gave Scott 
still another idea of the densely crowded holy city. 

On their way out of the forest of temples, they passed 
through an alley even gloomier and narrower than any they 
had seen before. 

" Look through that little hole in the wall, Scott, and see 
how you like the view," Richard said, pointing to a hole so 
small that Scott almost lost it in trying to stand on tiptoe to 
reach it ; but at last, with a cry of surprise, he ^attained the 
position. 

He seemed to be looking into a vast chamber of dazzling 
sunlight and polished marble and burnished gold. The draught 
that was drawn through that little hole was laden with the 
sweetest fragrance of rose-oil and sandal-wood. 

"It is the Temple of Siva, — the great Golden Temple to 
the especial deity of the city," Mr. Raymond explained. 

"Will you have a drink?" asked Richard, as they stopped 
beside the Well of Knowledge a moment later. 

Scott stepped upon the platform, and looked down into 
the well. A vile mass of decaying flowers and sprouting rice 
was floating there ; and he replied that he would rather be 
excused. 



^^2 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" It is very efficacious water," continued Mr. Raymond. 
" The god Ganesh, in the shape of a serpent, representing 
Wisdom, jumped into this well. As the result of it, the well 
became at once imbued with wisdom." 

" And with serpents too ! " exclaimed Scott. " I saw a 
dozen of them, at least, sticking their heads above the water. 
And do people really drink it?" 

" Look at them," replied Richard, as two pilgrims came 
up, deposited their coins, and took a drink. " They imbibe 
the wisdom." 

" And the serpents, too, I'll bet ! But the thing must pay 
like a soda-water fountain on a hot day. Look there ! There 
go three more ignoramuses. What a set of people these 
Hindus are ! One minute you think they're smarter than chain- 
lightening, knowing all about astronomy before the stars were 
created ; and the next you find them paying half a cent or 
so a drink for dead rose-leaf and snake tea, thinking they are 
going to grow wise on it." 

As it was not far, they walked back to the bungalow ; 
and on the way, just at the gate of a rajah's palace, they 
passed a funeral procession, where three of the male relatives 
were carrying the body of the dead in a sort of palanquin, 
supported by poles, on their shoulders. They were wailing a 
song as they went, or something intended for a song. 

"If they were rich, they might have two or three fellows 
going with them, with tomtoms and drums and a fife or two, 
to keep up their spirits, and keep them in time," said Richard 
as they approached. 

"What are they singing?" asked Scott. 

" Moro understands them. Where is the boy ? " returned 
Richard, looking about him. But Sayad was following alone. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 373 

" Oh, I remember ! " he added. " I told Moro he might bathe ; 
and I suppose he will take a month for it, he has such an 
accumulation of sins. But never mind. They are singing 
the praises of the dead man, and a long list of good things 
that he did when living : that is what they always sing." 



»^/ '^'\^, 




A FUNERAL PROCESSION. 



" Poets and musicians must be plenty," observed Scott ; 
** for there seem to be a plenty of deaths." 

" But this is the same old song, both words and music, 
that they have used at every funeral for centuries. They don't 
want to say any thing but the best of a dead man ; and 
when they have the very best that can be said, all written 
down and set to music and learned by heart, what is the use 
of any thing new ? " 



374 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" And a fellow knows, that way, what is going to be said 
of him. That's comfortable," added Scott. 

The foreman came to the bungalow. He admitted that 
Roderick had left Paul with him for a few days ; and said that 
he had turned him over, according to orders, to some pilgrims 
who were going up the Ganges and Jumna, to Delhi, to the 
feast of the Pungas, for he had been directed to send Paul's 
clothing there. Further than that he refused to speak. 
Richard asked him of the whereabouts of Roderick Dennett ; 
but he replied indignantly, — 

" I'm not that sort o' man, Mr. Raymond ; and you know 
it, that you do. Roddy Dennett's not my kind ; no, he ain't. 
He can go back on his friends ; but I, no ! He's my friend, 
— Roddy is. God knows he'd go back on me for a rupee 
any day : but I'll not go back on him ; no, I won't. You 
told me, if I'd let out all I knew o' the little kid, you'd let 
up on me ; and I've done it. And you'll do it ; for you're 
a man o' your word, yesterday and to-morrow and every day, 
you are : and I'm not afraid to tell you to your face, top o' 
that, that not a word'll I breathe o' Roddy Dennett, so help 
me God ! no, I won't. No more you won't touch me, neither, 
till you find out I've held something back about the kid. I 
know you, Raymond Sahib, and there's no use your talking 
more ; for I have your word, and I'd's soon have that as a 
sealed pardon from the viceroy. I'll send you the kid's clothes 
that's left behind before two hours, and that's all I will do. 
Good-day, Mr. Raymond." 

"That's not quite all," said Richard. "I told you you 
must help me find the child." 

" Right you are there, Raymond Sahib ; and I'm your man. 
I'll go with you if you say it, or I'll go alone, or I'll stay 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 375 

where I am ; and, be it one or all, tell me where to find you, 
and I'll give you my word — for what it's worth — that, the 
first thing and every thing I learn o' the whereabouts o' the 
kid, you shall know it by telegraph. 

" Course you'll pay expenses and a little beside," he added 
as he went out. 

" All that is left us, then," said Richard when he and 
Scott were alone, " is to go up to Delhi, and watch there 
for the pilgrims coming in from the river. Let me see : this 
is sixteen days since we landed." 

" It seems like a year, at least," said Scott incredulously, 
as he began to count the days again. 

" They started two days after we landed," Richard continued, 
" and could not possibly reach Delhi in less than a month. 
We have time to go slowly, see a good deal by the way, and 
still be well established before the feast of Pungfas." 

"Why not strike the river, and search the pilgrims?" sug- 
gested Scott. 

" Because it would be impossible. The very ones that 
had Paul in charge would look the most innocent. There 
will be hundreds of boats going up to the feast, and we have 
only the word of this vagabond to go upon. While we were 
searching the wrong ones, the right one would hear of it, 
and escape us. The best way is to say nothing. There is 
no fear but that Paul will be well cared for. The Hindus 
love children, in the first place ; and, beside that, whoever 
has him will be well paid for care, and well threatened if any 
thing happens. I know Dennett. He has not taken all this 
pains, to lose his prize now." 

Scott had no choice but to wait, and let matters take 
their course ; and, as soon as dinner was eaten, they sent for 



31^ 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



a carriage, and drove out ten miles to Sarnath, the site of 
the first Buddhist city in the world, stopping by the way at 
a famous temple. 

Richard had said nothing of what sort of a temple it was, 
wishing to surprise his friend ; but Scott noticed that he took 
off his cork helmet just as he was entering the gate, and 
was in the act of following the example, and of asking why 
he did it, when his own helmet was lifted from his head. 

There was no one near him ; and Scott looked up in sur- 
prise, to see at least fifty little black hands with long wiry 
fingers, with the nails bitten off very short, in a squirming 
wreath about his head, and half as many dark woolly faces 
turned disconsolately upward, while their tiny black eyes 
followed the successful monkey. He leaped from the wall to 
a tree, from the tree to the porch of a little temple, from the 
porch to the ornamental tower, and from one ornament to 
another, till he perched upon the very highest attainable point ; 
and, with the huge helmet in his little hand, he turned round, 
and made a face at Scott. 

Scott picked up a stone to throw at the intruder ; when 
at least a hundred and fifty monkeys all about him began to 
howl, and two priests in hideous robes, with cowls over their 
heads, sprang forward, and caught his uplifted hand. He 
pushed them angrily away ; when Richard, coming to the 
rescue, said, — 

" Be careful, Scott. Those monkeys are terribly sacred, 
and so are the priests. This is the great monkey-temple. 
It wouldn't do to insult the gods." 

" But he's got my hat," cried Scott angrily, and looked 
up the tapering tower, — all jutting ornaments, to give the 
monkeys a good chance to climb. When he saw the old 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 377 

monkey at the top, however, he could not himself refrain from 
smiline : for the fellow had forced the hat down between two 
ornamental projections, and, seating himself in it as though 
it were an easy-chair, he had crossed his legs, and thrown 
his head back against the marble tower ; and there he sat, 
quietly scratching himself, and looking down on the bareheaded 
boy. 

" That's one way they take to make a living out of tour- 
ists," Richard explained. " Perhaps you cannot see the joke, 
but they want you to give them some money to pay them for 
trying to get the hat back again." 

"Will they guarantee to do it?" asked Scott, who had 
inherited a financial turn of mind from his father. 

" I don't believe they'd sign a contract," replied Richard ; 
" and, unless you gave them nearly what they can get for the 
hat if they sell it in the bazaar, I hardly think they will 
succeed." 

" They won't have a chance to try," returned Scott, quietly 
taking from his pocket a little cashmere cap that he had 
bought of the pedlers after breakfast that morning. "If they 
can't furnish their gods with rocking-chairs, I will. And I'll 
wear this till I can get me another." 

Even the priests smiled at the business-like way in which 
Scott turned to examine the temple and monkeys, without 
so much as looking up again. He even bought some of the 
pop-corn and candies that they keep always on hand to sell 
to travellers who wish to feed the monkeys. 

But when Scott came to the real idol, the great monkey- 
god, in the centre of the little temple, in fact filling the 
temple completely with his innumerable heads and legs and 
arms, he turned away in disgust. 



378 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" I'd give more for one sick monkey than a dozen like 
him," he exclaimed. " Why, Paul's got a jumping-jack at 
home that'll beat him all to Goshen ! " 

They did not remain long, but taking the carriage again 
drove out to Sarnath. 

" You'll hardly think it worth seeing," remarked Richard. 

" It's only what they call 
a tope, or solid tower, 
an enormous thing, and 
quite dilapidated ; but it 
was built upon the spot 
where Gautama, the Hin- 
du prince who renounced 
his throne, pitched his 
tent when he went into 
hermitage." 

" What did he do that 
for ? " asked Scott. 

" Because he believed 
he was divinely appointed 
to pr^ch a reformation 
to the Hindus." 

" That was a pretty 
way to preach a reforma- 
tion. Why didn't he stay a prince ? it would have had much 
more weight," said Scott. 

Richard did not reply directly: he only said, "Jesus of 
Nazereth was a carpenter's son. He had not where to lay 
his head when he preached a reformation to the Jews." 

"How long has this tope been standing?" Scott asked 
as they were examining it. 




THE OLD TOPE AT SARNATH. 



PILGRIMS, PRIESTS, AND PEOPLE EVERYWHERE. 379 

" Over two thousand five hundred years," replied Richard. 
"Gautama — who is now called Buddha, or wisdom ^ — began 
to preach to five disciples who gathered about him out here, 
four hundred years before Christ was born." 

" How did he succeed ? " asked Scott again, with the 
financial tendency uppermost. 

" When he died, after only forty-five years of preaching, 
and never to any but those who would come out to hear 
him, he had over eight million followers." 

Scott whistled. 

" And to-day," Richard continued, " over two hundred 
and ninety millions of people, or over a quarter of the whole 
world, are Buddhists." 

" But where are they all ? We have not seen them, have 
we ? " 

" There are very few in India," Richard replied. 

" That's bad," said Scott. " It don't look well for a thing 
to be driven away from its home that way." 

" How many native Christians do you think there are in 
Syria, Scott?" asked Richard. 

" Never thought of that," said Scott ; " but is Buddhism 
really good for any thing ? " 

" Of course it is. There are a great many good things in 
it; but they are all to be found in Christianity, and a deal 
more that is not in Buddhism or all other religions com- 
bined," Mr. Raymond replied earnestly. 

"There is a little crowd over there," said Scott: "are they 
pilgrims ? " 

" We will go and see," replied Richard, directing the 
driver to go over to where the fifty or more people were 
gathered. 



380 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Barnum ! " cried Scott as he reached the Httle company, 
and found many of them prostrate before three of the most 
peculiar beings he had ever seen, two of whom were sitting 
on raised chairs, and one standing behind. 

" We are in luck," whispered Richard eagerly. " They 
are pilgrims. They are three of a family of eight, — the hairy 
people of Mandelbar." 

" You don't mean to say that that long black hair all 
over them is natural ? " said Scott. 

" Indeed I do," replied Richard ; " and, more than that, 
that person standing — the one behind — is a woman." 

" A woman ! " exclairned Scott, " a woman, with all that 
beard, and hair all over her forehead and arms and hands ? " 

" Yes, a woman, and one very proud of her personal 
appearance." 

" Great Caesar's ghost!" muttered Scott. "But what are 
they praying to them for ? " 

'' They are not really praying to them as to God : they are 
only receiving their blessing. They suppose, from their pecul- 
iarity, that they are in some way under the especial care of 
Providence ; and so they make them presents of money and 
any thing they have, and take their blessing in return," 

" Why, that beats going with Barnum, by a large major- 
ity," said Scott as they turned away. " I thought America 
would surely be ahead in circus-show facilities." 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



381 




CHAPTER XXI. 

AMONG THE PALACES. 

ROM Benares they went direct to Agra. 

"■ I believe we'll drive right to the house of a 
friend of mine here, a right good fellow. His name 
is Royal Cliffton. He came from America with his 
family, a few years ago, and has settled here. He has two 
of the prettiest little girls I ever saw." 

" But I am hardly in a state to make a call," said Scott, 
looking at the dust on his clothes, and general disorder that 
Sayad had tried in vain to right, in the disagreeable carriage 
on the branch road. 

" I don't mean, to make a call : I mean, to stop there 
while we are in Agra," replied Richard. 

" Won't it be taking your friend too much by surprise, 
especially if I go ? " suggested Scott, who, after all, was over- 
joyed with the prospect of seeing an American family again. 

" It's a way we have in India," replied Richard. " We 
are always glad enough to see any one, to forget about 
ceremony." 

Mr. Cliffton's house was a little out of the city, and they 
found it a most delightful home. In the afternoon they all 
drove over to the fort, built upon the banks of the Jumma 
River, a branch of the Ganges. 

They entered through the famous Delhi Gate, of red 
sandstone. It was not particularly beautiful, but was exceed- 



382 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



ingly strong, rising seventy-five feet high. Over the wall, 
that is two miles long, they could see the domes and mina- 
rets of the mosque and palace as they approached. 

There was a bazaar or market-place outside the gate, 
where the booths were covered with kus-kus mats, like the 
awnings over the windows of the private houses. A multi- 




THE FAMOUS DELHI GATE. 



tude of beggars crowded around them as they made their 
approach. They were a ghastly set. Some of them had a 
leg swollen from the hip till the foot was entirely hidden. 
Some had horrible deformities. All of their faces were full 
of misery ; and many had their arms full of babies, and most 
of the babies were full of a variety of afflictions. They clung 
about them with the utmost persistency, in spite of all Mr. 
Cliffton's endeavors to drive them off. 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



383 



" I don't see what makes the beasts hang on so to-day," 
he said impatiently. 

" I threw them all the small pieces I had in my pocket, 
when they first came up. I thought it would stop them, but 
it didn't work worth a cent," said Scott. 

" It has worked like a charm, and it always will," replied 
Royal Cliffton, laughing. " If you want to draw a crowd of 
beggars in India, just give something to the first one that 
comes. — That's the way; is it not, Raymond?" 

" I never knew it to fail," said Richard. 

British soldiers were guarding the gate ; and without a 
word they roughly pushed Moro and Sayad back, with the 
butts of their guns, when they attempted to follow their 
masters. 

Mr. Cliffton came up and explained, that, a year before, 
one of the magazines in the fort had been fired through 
some mistake ; and, as no one could discover just whose mis- 
take it was, they declared with one voice that it must have 
been the work of a native, and forthwith issued an order 
that no native could safely be allowed to enter this palace 
of his fathers ; and all were consequently forbidden. 

An enormous court surrounded them, paved with marble 
except where beds of gorgeous flowers bloomed ; and here 
and there were dark-green arbors. All around them were 
marble buildings so beautiful that Scott sought in vain for 
words to express himself. Even " great Caesar's ghost " was 
inadequate for the occasion. He simply stood in rapt admi- 
ration. 

" Come this way first, and we will go into the mosque," 
said Mr. Cliffton. " They call it the Moti Musjid, or Pearl 
Mosque. What do you think of it, Scott ? " 



384 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"It's an odd place for a church," replied Scott; "but it 
is certainly the finest thing I ever saw, whatever it is." 

" Ah ! we Ve something better yet to show you. Wait till 
we take you to the Taj Mahal," said Mr. Cliffton. 

" Has any one lived here lately ? " asked Scott. 

" It was about three hundred years ago that the royal 
family went to Delhi," said Mr. Cliffton. 

" Three hundred years since they moved away ! " Scott 
drew a long breath. " Why, pray, how old is this place any- 
way? It is as fresh as though it were built yesterday." 

"That is true; for it was well built in the first place, and 
the air does not discolor and injure the marble here as it 
does in America." 

They passed through the magnificent audience-hall where 
the Mogul emperor, Shah Jehan, once sat in judgment ; and 
where, twice every week, the meanest and lowest in his realm 
were allowed to come into his presence, and say what they 
chose to him, complaining about any wrongs or injuries they 
had received, without any third person to misrepresent their 
words. They were just going through a low arch to the left, 
on the way to the zenana, when Mr. Cliffton added, "Look 
over the river there, Scott. Do you see that white bubble 
coming up out of the water and the jungle?" 

" I see it," said Scott in a low tone, for the beauty was 
something that seemed to rebuke any thing boisterous. 

" That is the great Taj Mahal, the finest architectural 
work in the world, the most elaborately and expensively 
ornamented of any building on earth, the most beautiful 
mausoleum ever erected ; and yet it is only the tomb of a 
Mohammedan woman." 

" You can't surprise me that way, a bit," said Scott, as 



386 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



they went on ; " for I have had my notions about these 
heathen women changed a deal within the last few days. 
I've found out that they are some pumpkins, and pretty big 
ones too." 

" Well, here we are where they lived when in the palace," 
said Mr. Cliffton, as they entered a room, or rather a long 
series of rooms that were separated by marble walls, but 
walls that were carved through and through with beautiful 
open-work designs right in the marble, and magnificent pillars 
that were carved from top to bottom, and inlaid with gold and 
precious stones in exquisite designs. And there was a marble 
aqueduct in the floor, carrying water through the middle of 
every room. 

" This water is brought from mountains miles away," said 
Mr. Cliffton. 

" They'd have had hard work to keep out the mosqui- 
toes," remarked Scott, looking through the open-tracery walls, 
as he followed Richard out upon the balcony surrounding 
the zenana that overlooked the fort-wall from seventy-five 
feet above the river. 

This balcony was surrounded by a balustrade of marble, 
carved in open-work geometric patterns, and was shaded by 
an awning of thin marble. 

" Guess if our Society folks saw this, they would not mind 
being harem women themselves on hot afternoons," said 
Scott triumphantly. 

They went through the royal bath-rooms, where mirrors 
were inlaid in the marble instead of gold and precious stones, 
and where a hundred little fountains played when the em- 
peror was in Agra. As they passed a low marble building 
on the way out. Royal Cliffton remarked, — 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



;87 



" The famous sandalwood gates are kept in there. The 
Afghans took them about eight hundred and seventy-five 
years ago, and carried them home. The EngHsh prized them 
so much that they obHged them to bring them all the way 




THE BALCONY. 



back again. I should like to show you the gates ; but every 
one who sees them must have a special permit, and that 
permit is only to be obtained by making personal applications 
upon a man who, I believe, is never at home." 

Taking the carriage again at the door, they drove for two 



388 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

miles down the strand road, to the Taj Mahal of which Mr. 
Cliffton had spoken. The gateway was so beautiful in itself 
that Scott thought it impossible for the Taj within it to be 
more so. He stopped for a moment on the marble platform, 
looking up at the great red-sandstone tower decorated with 




THE BEAUTIFUL GATE. 



white marble : then he followed Mr. Cliffton and Mr. Ray- 
mond under the arch. 

" Moonlight is the time to see the outside of the Taj," 
said Royal Cliffton ; " but then one has to sacrifice the inside, 
which is yet more beautiful. We'll come again, and see it 
by moonlight." 

Within the gate there was a tropical garden extending 
away over broad acres in every direction, and one mass 
of luxuriant vegetation, — tall palms and twining vines, 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



389 



flowering shrubs in tropical confusion, with long avenues 
leading through it in various directions, bordered with foun- 
tains. 

" There are eleven hundred of those fountains in this 
garden," said Mr. Cliffton. 

From the gate they walked down a long avenue of 





'^£S£4§i 



THE TAJ TKOM THE GAEDEN. 



cypress-trees, that were trained in an arch above their heads. 
Though it was broad day, they seemed to be in twilight. 
Here and there a pauper or pilgrim sat in rags and holy 
contemplation, or sadly puffing away upon a hubble-bubble, 
or primitive and simple clay hookah, by the side of the walk. 
When they reached the end of the avenue, they suddenly 
found themselves at the brow of a gentle hill, that gradually 
fell away, densely covered with a magnificent floral display ; 



390 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



and over the valley, on the brow of a hill opposite, seeming 
to rest on the green forest like an ivory dream, was the 
wonderful Taj. 

It was of pure white marble, octangular in form. Four 
alternate sides were formed of one immense arch each, and 
the other four of four smaller arches each. Above the whole, 
rose a great heart-shaped dome ; and around it were four 
smaller domes, as near like it as a little drop of water and a 
larger one ; and every dome was tipped with gold. 

" That golden ball on the top of the central dome is two 
hundred and eighty-four feet above the platform," said Mr. 
Cliffton. 

Scott held his breath for a moment, then hardly above a 
whisper said, — 

" Fifty feet higher than our big church- steeples ! Whew ! " 

This beautiful building stands upon a very large platform 
of polished marble, raised sixteen feet above the garden ; and 
at the four corners of the platform are four slender minarets. 
At a little distance from the Taj, upon each side of it, are two 
smaller buildings with graceful Saracenic arches facing it. 

"It took twenty thousand men twenty-three years to build 
that Taj," added Mr. Cliffton after a moment's pause. There 
was a great deal sent in tribute ; and the labor was nearly all 
of it the work of prisoners or tributary force, that cost noth- 
ing. But the material alone cost the emperor Shah Jehan 
what to-day would be worth more than fifty million dollars." 

Again Scott looked in breathless astonishment. 

As he followed Mr. Cliffton down into the garden, he 
asked, — 

" What is the use of the minarets that all Mussulman 
mosques seem to have ? " 



AMONG THE PALACES. 3^1 

"It is from them that the call to prayer is given. Some- 
times four Mussulman criers go up to the little nest in the 
top; and, joining their hands behind their backs, they throw 
their heads back, and all together shout the call. They become 
by practice so strong that they send the cry for miles often ; 
and every devout Mussulman who hears it should fall on his 
knees, and touch his forehead to the ground, at least. It is 
a pretty call: ' La-illa-il-ulla-Makamad rusol-il-ulla!" 

As they went down into the garden, the Taj still appeared. 
It was so arranged as always to appear; but the surround- 
ings so continually and completely changed, that it ever 
seemed as though one were looking at something new, that, 
if possible, was more beautiful than the last view. 

Then they entered, and all the beauty without was only 
intensified. As they passed under one of the great arches, 
they found themselves in an immense circle, in a square of 
a hundred and eighty-six feet. 

" The entire Koran, the Mussulman Bible, is inlaid in 
black marble over the outside of the Taj," said Mr. Cliffton ; 
" and, do you see, over this immense interior there is not 
a place where you could lay your hand without touching a 
precious stone." 

"Oh! but what beautiful designs!" Scott exclaimed. 
" There are entire vines and leaves and flowers ; and all are 
inlaid in their own proper size and shape, and even color, in 
these jewels ! And there, see ! there are little pearls for drops 
of dew. It would be worth a journey to India, if one had to 
walk all the way, and could only see this one wonderful 

And now, for the first time, he noticed that there were 
no windows in the Taj ; and, looking about him, he discov- 



392 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

ered that the soft reflection that filled the room was stealing 
through the very marble walls, where vines of light seemed trail- 
ing from the dome, carved through and through the marble. 

About the centre of the interior, there was a marble balus- 
trade, where all the skill that had been expended elsewhere 
seemed to have been redoubled. In the centre of this, were 
two large marble slabs. One stood in the exact centre, and 
the other at one side. 

"Are there two people buried here?" asked Scott. 

" This is not where the bodies are laid," replied Mr. 
Cliffton ; " but in a vault below, that we will go down into 
presently. There are two more slabs directly under these, 
that have only fresh flowers from the garden on them, and 
nothing inlaid. Yes, there are two bodies lying here. The 
sultana Murmtza-i-Mahal, the wife of the emperor, for whom 
the tomb was built, lies in the centre. Then the Shah Jehan 
ordered the architect to build him a tomb for himself, across 
the river, even larger and more beautiful. The architect 
began, and the foundations yet remain ; but when they were 
raised he died, and no one could be found capable of carry- 
ing on the work : so there it stands ; and, when the emperor 
died, he directed that his body be laid here too." 

The Taj stands directly upon the river, and the most 
beautiful view of all was obtained as they were rowed away 
toward the city. 

"You are sober, Scott. Don't India please you?" asked 
Richard, as they had almost reached the landing below the 
fort-wall. 

" I hardly know, Mr. Raymond," he returned : " there are 
such extremes, such terrible extremes. India makes you mad 
with her, then makes you feel like dying for her if it could 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



393 



assist her. She makes you sad, she makes you laugh ; she 
makes you crawl all over with horror and disgust : yet I feel 
as if I had seen enough to-day to make me happy and 
humble for a lifetime. She makes me pity her, and the next 
moment I think that every civilized mortal should get down 
on his knees before her. 
I do not know." 

In the bazaar Scott 
bought an ivory medal- 
lion of one of the noble- 
men who used to inhabit 
the palace. 

" We will drive out to 
Futtehpur Sakri to-mor- 
row, and drive back the 
next day : I want to show 
you some more extremes," 
said Royal Cliffton, laugh- 
ing. 

" I am sure I can see 
nothing equal to this," 
said Scott. 

" You're right," said Mr. Cliffton. " Search the world, and 
there is nothing to compare with it. But Futtehpur Sakri is 
worth seeing. It was the summer city of the grandfather of 
the Shah Jehan." 

They started very early, for it was a long day's drive ; 
and at four in the afternoon were approaching the summer 
city. Nothing could yet be seen of it but a jumble of 
glistening walls in the distance, and the high tower of 
Elephanta. 




A EAJAH OF THE GOOD OLD DAYS. 



394 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" This Is a very popular road for pilgrims and caravans," 
said Mr. Cliffton as they rode along, " See how the enlight- 
ened native dealers have taken up the American notion of 
sticking advertisements in stencil - painting on the rocks ? 
They are nearly all of them advertisements of some kind of 
American inventions. Do you see that large stone there, 
with a Hindustani sentence in large letters upon it?" 

" Yes : ' Use Perry Davis's Pain- Killer,' " repeated Richard, 

translating the prominent 




sign. 

" Well," added 
Cliffton, '' they 
scratched it out 
but a while ao-o 



ADVERTISING ROCKS. 



Mr. 

have 
now, 
the 
missionary society sent 
out a Hindu convert to 
paint a lot of Scripture- 
texts in the best places 
he could find. He could 
not read a word, either 
of what was already writ- 
ten or of what he had ; but he thought that a splendid place, 
and he picked out his largest plate to put right under that. 
What do you think it was ? ' Thou shalt have no other gods 
before me.' And every one who could read, at once decided 
that Perry Davis's Pain-Killer was a new god that was setting 
up decidedly grand pretensions." 

" We must go into the court of the mosque to see the 
tomb of the sheik Selim Christi, before it is too dark," said 
Mr. Cliffton as they began their walk through the beautiful 
marble city. " He is the man, Scott, who was going through 



AMONG THE PALACES. 



395 



the Indian desert when he found a Httle girl only a few 
hours old, and a baby boy, her brother, where their mother 
and father had left them to the mercy of God, while they 
went on a little way to die alone ; for they were out of food 
and water, and a long way from help. He took them to the 
court of the emperor Akbar, and there they grew up. The 




THE TOMB OF SELIM CHRISTI. 



little girl, some say, was the ' Light of the Harem,' that Tom 
Moore wrote about in his famous ' Lalla Rookh ; ' and that 
the boy married a daughter of the sheik, and their daughter 
was the sultana for whom the Shah Jehan built the Taj." 

"Isn't that rather mixed?" asked Scott. "I can't see 
through it, at any rate." 

" Well, it only amounts to this : that the man who lies 



396 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

here rescued from death and gave the world the heroine 
of ' Lalla Rookh,' and the heroine of the Taj Mahal, — one 
of the most beautiful poems, and the most beautiful mauso- 
leum, in the world." 

" He got a good tomb to pay for it," said Scott; " but it 
strikes me that these tombs are the biggest things in India. 
If I had been one of these old fellows, I would have lived 
in my tomb, and been buried outside." 

" So they did live there until they died," replied Richard, 
laughing. " These tombs they made their great reception- 
halls, and gave immense dinner-parties, etc., here, and tried 
to make their friends as happy as possible ; that when they 
were dead and buried, and the places closed up, they might 
be remembered and missed." 

" That was a jolly good dodge. But don't any one live 
in this city now ? " 

" Not a soul but these beggars. You might if you 
wished : no one would stop you, or ask for rent." 

" Too lonesome ! too much fancy-work for me : I'd rather 
be excused," replied Scott. " But I should think that these 
Hindus, who are used to it as you might say, would come 
up here for the summer at least." 

"It is very strange about this place," replied Mr. Cliff- 
ton. " It was built as if by magic, almost in a single night, 
to please the fancy of that almost omnipotent emperor. 
Here the court came for just twelve years ; and then the 
marble city and the old mud village outside the gate were 
deserted, — absolutely deserted. No one has ever lived here 
since." 

" How long ago was that?" Scott asked. 

" A little over three hundred years." 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 



397 




CHAPTER XXII. 

DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 

f]S much as Scott longed to be in Delhi, it was with 
great regret that he left Mr. Cliffton's hospitable 
home, a few days later, and with Mr. Raymond 
took the train for Tundla, where they found the 
express waiting ; and early the next morning they rolled over 
the long stone bridge, and close to the fort-wall, till they 
reached the station. 

" There are some dhobis tearing some one's clothes to 
pieces, and breaking somebody's buttons," said Richard as 
they saw several native washermen in the river doing their 
work. "That reminds me. — Moro, bring us 2i dkobi, the first 
thing you do." 

" Ha sahib," replied Moro, who understood perfectly, 
though all but the word dhobi Richard had spoken in 
English. And, as soon as they were located in comfortable 
quarters, Moro appeared with the desired washerman ; and he 
and Sayad prepared the clothes, and made a list of them, 
which they each handed to their respective masters to look 
over while they counted their clothes before them. 

" This is a precaution which it is second nature for them 
to take," Richard explained, laughing as Scott seemed reluc- 
tant to appear to distrust the boy who had served him so 
well. " They know themselves that they are such thieves, 
that they would only think you a fool if you did not keep a 
sharp lookout for them." 



398 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" I don't believe this fellow would steal," said Scott, looking 
toward Sayad. 

'' See that handkerchief sticking out of his girdle," said 
Richard. " I warned you to be careful." 

Scott looked, and to his horror saw one of his own silk 
handkerchiefs peeping from beneath Sayad's girdle. 




THE RAILROAD BRIDGE OVER THE JUMNA AT DELHI. 

" The wretch ! " he muttered. 

" Oh, no!" replied Richard, laughing: " he's just as good 
a boy as he was before. He only wants looking after, that 
is all." 

" Every city, so far, is so very different from every other," 
said Scott, as they took their first walk in Delhi. " There 
is just a sort of family resemblance, but nothing more. How 
broad and beautiful this avenue is, with the line of trees 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 399 

through the centre, and only the low houses on each side ! 
such pretty houses, and all so different from any thing else ! 
And this marble aqueduct, carrying such clear cold water in 
an open stream down each side of the street, — who ever 
thought of such a thing? But how cooling and refreshing it 
must be to the tired, heated fellows at their work ! " 

" You are quite right, Scott. This water is brought in the 
marble aqueduct for eighty-three miles, to supply the city 
with water that is cool and fresh when the river becomes 
heated and low in the dry season. It was done at the 
expense of one of the queens, long years ago ; and when 
it was finished, to prevent the rich from ever monopolizing it 
in any way, so that the poor could not have the benefit, she 
decreed that the two aqueducts should extend the whole 
length of this street, the Chandi Chouk, or Street of Silver 
light, and that they should always be uncovered for the 
entire distance." 

" That's not a bad name for a street," said Scott. " But 
what is this immense square that we are coming to, with 
that — what is it ? a mosque, isn't it ? it has minarets — on 
the right." 

"Yes, it is a mosque, Scott, — the most beautiful public 
mosque, and the largest one, in India. Do you see, this wall 
extends entirely around it? and there are gates exactly like 
this on every side. Over the wall you can see the front of 
the principal arch, and the three domes of the mosque, and 
the minarets." 

" Do they have any Sundays, and sermons in those 
mosques ? " asked Scott. 

" Friday is the Mussulman's holy day," replied Richard. 
"It is as much his Sunday as any day ; but they never have 



400 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



sermons, except in times of excitement over something. 
They often have short lectures by the priests, but they are 
chiefly the repeating of the Koran. They beheve in more 
Bible, and less expounding of it." 

"That's the talk," exclaimed Scott. "I wish they'd come 
over and teach that doctrine to some of our ministers. Oh, 
how tired I get in church, sometimes ! " he concluded with a sigh. 

They went into a little chapel at one corner of the wall ; 




DELHI OF THREE THOUSAND YEARS AGO. 



where, with great reverence, the priests took out for them 
treasure after treasure from their store of sacred relics. 
Rolled up in innumerable papers, they had a hair from the 
beard of Mohammed, an old crumbled sandal that he once 
wore, and a manuscript copy of the entire Koran, written by 
his favorite daughter, Fatima. 

They climbed one of the minarets, and obtained an exten- 
sive view of the immense plain and the ruins surrounding 
the city. 

" How old are these ruins ? " asked Scott. 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DffONDARAM. 401 

" That tomb with a dome, yonder, is about eleven hun- 
dred years old," replied Richard ; and, while Scott tried in vain 
to stretch his imagination, he continued. " But there are so 
many interesting places there, that we must find a first-rate 
guide, and take two or three days to see them all. There 
are ruins there of buildings that were erected over, three 
thousand years ago, and some even older. There are relics 
of the first Aryan conquerors, and that was nearer five thou- 
sand years." 

" Oh, wait a minute ! wait a minute ! " cried Scott. " I 
have not got over the first three thousand yet. But the 
Aryans, did you say? Why, I thought that we in America 
were descended from the Aryans." 

" Quite right, Scott. Five thousand years ago the Aryans 
divided. Half of them followed Mr. Greeley's advice, and 
went west ; and half of them came south-east. We are 
directly descended from one branch, and these Hindu heathen 
are as directly descended from the other." 

" You don't mean to say that we come from precisely 
the same stock ? " said Scott in surprise ; adopting the ver- 
nacular of the Beverly farmers, for want of any thing more 
expressive. 

" Just precisely," replied Richard. 

" Well, that's what makes the Hindus look so much like 
Europeans, in spite of their dark skin, — so much more than 
the Africans and Chinese and the Japs ; isn't it ? " 

" That is it precisely, Scott. You're quite a philosopher. 
Now point the glass a little to the right till you hit the 
Kutub Minar, that tower that rises against the sky. Do you 
find it?" 

" I have it, sir," replied Scott, as he found the high tower 
at last. 



402 OUR BOYS IN INDIA, 

" That is a minaret," said Richard. 

" A minaret ! " exclaimed Scott. 

" Yes, only a minaret. It was built almost a thousand 
years ago ; and the temple about it, that has been almost 
demolished now, in fanatic wars, was the largest Mohamme- 
dan mosque ever built. That minaret is only forty-eight feet 
in diameter at the base ; but, with the little cap, that has been 
torn away now, it was two hundred and sixty-seven feet 
high. It is beautifully ornamented to the very top. By and 
by you will be studying architecture ; and, unless times change 
a great deal, you will learn that the campanile in Florence,, 
built by Giotto after this mosque had begun to crumble, is 
the triumph of tower-building. You may find a note at the 
foot of the page, admitting that a possible rival may be a 
Mussulman or a Hindu minaret in the plain of old Delhi. 
This, in spite of the fact that the Kutub was higher than 
the campanile, that it is round w^here the other is angular, 
that it is beautifully ornamented where the other is almost 
plain, and that it is in vastly better proportions, according 
to geometric laws, than the work of Giotto." 

From the Jumma Musjid they went across the square to 
the old fort opposite. It was more dilapidated than the fort 
and palaces at Agra, though in its glory it had been more 
beautiful. 

" These walls look as if they had had the small-pox," Scott 
remarked as they went through the royal apartments, where 
the elaborate carving remained, but the jewels and gold had 
all been taken out. 

" That is the result of the rage with which the English 
soldiers appropriated every thing that was valuable, to pay 
the Hindus for having kept them so long outside the gates 




KUTTTB MINAR. 



i^*% 



404 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

besieging the city," replied Mr. Raymond. " But there is 
one Httle gem here that they did not demoHsh, simply 
because there was nothing but white marble about it. It is 
the Pearl Mosque, all walled in by a high fence of white 
marble, where the hundred wives of the emperor worshipped. 
There is only one little door by which it could be entered, 
and that was kept guarded by eunuchs. Inside, it is a per- 
fect gem." 

From the palace they walked to the famous Cashmere 
gate, in the old wall about the city. 

" I want you to see the breach that was made, through 
which the British entered the city. They tried in vain to 
reduce the natives here, and at last Col. Nicholson announced 
that the task was to be abandoned for the time unless a 
breach could be made in the wall. He offered an immense 
reward to any soldiers who would take kegs of powder up 
to this old wall, and blow it up. Three Hindu traitors 
were among those who dared to venture for the reward, and 
offered to run the risk. Two of the three were shot on the 
way. The third sprang over yonder bridge, and ran down the 
moat that was only half full of water. He fired the powder, 
and escaped. The British entered. The poor fellow only 
enjoyed his notoriety for a little while, however ; for the 
mutiny was no sooner subdued than he fell dead under the 
dagger of Dhondaram." 

" I can't help it, Mr. Raymond," Scott said a little later, 
as they walked along the bastion : "I somehow admire that 
Dhondaram." 

" He is a hero, there's no doubt of that ; and perhaps 
you are a hero-worshipper, Scott," returned Richard. 

" It's not that exactly," said Scott. " I cannot help feel- 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 



405 



ing that there is something good in the man : there is some- 
thing that is really noble, for all it seems so wicked, in what 
you have told me of hinl. Don't you think he believes he 
is doing right ? " 

" It is vengeance and fanaticism with him," returned Mr. 
Raymond. " I would hardly put it that he thinks he is 




THE CASHMERE GATE OF BELHI. 



doing right, but I don't imagine he stops to think that he 
is really doing very wrong." 

" There is a little English chapel, just over the knoll," 
Richard continued as they approached the gate, " built to 
commemorate the success of the British. It is dedicated as 
a memorial to the English martyrs who fell here. To-morrow 
is Sunday. Shall we go there to church ? " 



4o6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Scott thought upon It seriously for a moment, and 
replied, — 

"I believe I should rather be excused. I should be mad 
about the mutiny, instead of mourning for the British mar- 
tyrs. If there is a mission church about, I think I should 
rather go there, and get you to translate the sermon as you 
did in Bombay. Is there a mission here ? " 

Mr. Raymond did not answer directly, and Scott looked 
toward him. He had o-one a little distance to one side, and 
was studying a paper posted on the gate. The notice was 
written, and officially signed, in three languages ; and there 
were already a dozen or more reading it, or translating it to 
others. They seemed much excited. It must have just been 
put there, for a moment before there was no one at the gate. 
The same frown had gathered on Mr. Raymond's face that 
Scott had seen there once before ; and looking up anxiously 
he asked, — 

" Is there any trouble, Mr. Raymond ? " 

" No trouble, my boy ; oh, no ! I was only reading that 
notice, and thinking." 

"What was the notice?" asked Scott. 

" It says that the traitor Dhondaram is known to be in 
the province, and increases the reward that is offered for his 
head." 

" Dhondaram here ! " exclaimed Scott. " I should like to 
see him." 

" You may have a chance, Scott. I thought he must be 
dead, but it seems they are after him as hard as ever." 

While they were standing there the crowd continually 
increased. Just then a European pressed through, without 
seeming to notice any one, but in great excitement pushed to 



DELHI, DENNETT, AND DHONDARAM. 407 

the front, and looked up at the notice. He began to read, 
and shuddered. He read on. 

It was very near where they were standing. The crowd 
was becoming so dense that Scott attempted to move away. 
Mr. Raymond stood still. Scott spoke to him : he did not 
answer. Scott looked up : his face was white ; his eyes were 
fixed on the man who was reading the notice. 

" Do you know him, Scott ? " Richard muttered in a low 
voice. 

Scott looked at the man again. He finished reading, and 
with a hollow laugh he turned away. 

" Roderick Dennett ! " escaped from Scott's parted lips. 



4o8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XXIII. 

SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 

AVING once fixed his eyes on the man he was 
searching for, Mr. Raymond did not easily lose 
sight of him, Scott had no further occasion to 
complain of lack of energy. He walked rapidly. 
He seemed to be in a hurry, and the crowd was much more 
dense in the streets he chose than outside the gate. Mr. 
Raymond did not dare to follow too closely. But at a dis- 
tance they saw Roderick Dennett enter the Dak Bungalow. 

" He must have just come," said Richard. " Let me go 
in first, and you may come in a few minutes if there is no 
trouble. Paul is not there, I think. Probably Dennett is 
here to meet him, and will be frightened away by that notice. 
It is very likely that Dhondaram is on his path." 

Richard went in. Scott was too eager to wait, and fol- 
lowed after only an instant's delay. Almost together they 
entered the bungalow. It seemed utterly deserted. Richard 
pushed his way without ceremony into the side room. Den- 
nett was bending over a valise. He was evidently hurrying 
his things into it to leave ; and, thinking it the keeper who 
had entered, he said, without looking up, — 

" I am going on for a few days. I have some trunks and 
boxes at the railway, and will have them sent over here. 
Take care of them for me, and I will pay you well." 

Then, seeming to realize that he had made a mistake, he 
looked up. 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST 



409 



" Raymond ! " he gasped ; and, starting to his feet, he drew 
his revolver. 

Mr. Raymond sprang upon him ; and, throwing him down, 
wrenched the revolver from his hand before he fairly realized 
what was taking place. 

" Ha ! You've done it now. Go ahead, and kill me ! " 
he muttered as Richard held him fast. 

Richard looked at him savagely for a moment, while Scott 
stood in the doorway aghast. Then, shaking his head, he 
replied, — 

" No, Roderick. You saved my life when we were boys 
in Beverly, and it has saved yours more than once since 
then. I have no desire to kill you." 

" Then, give me over, and have me hung," growled Den- 
nett through the choking grasp that Richard had fixed upon 
his throat. 

" You deserve that richly, but I will let some one else 
do it," Richard replied. 

" Then, what do you want of me ? " he asked, looking toward 
the door, evidently suspicious that there were others waiting 
for him. 

" I want several things ; and every one of them I will 
have before you escape me, no matter what it costs." Richard 
spoke in a way that yielded nothing. " I want the secret 
records that you stole from me, and the locket you took from 
my room. I want the signet and the badge of the governor- 
general. I want the key to the safe where your counterfeit 
rupee stamp is kept, and directions where I can find it. I 
want a written statement from you that Mr. Clayton had 
nothing to do with the defalcation and robbery in Boston, and 
just what disposal you made of the bonds. And I want you 
to give up Paul Clayton." 



^ro OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" You ask too much. I will not do it," replied Roderick 
sullenly. 

" Very well," said Richard calmly: "then I will hand you 
over to the British government. You will be hung as a 
murderer ; and I shall find out all I wish without your help, 
and have your belt besides." 

" I have no belt," gasped Roderick, making a desperate 
struggle to rise. 

But it was impossible ; for Mr. Raymond held him in a 
grip of iron, with muscles that had hardened in the jungle, 
and toupfhened with the rifle and the sword. 

" I'm not come to dispute with you, or to treat you as I 
have before," he said sternly. " It's neck or nothing with you 
this time, Dennett. You might as well begin, and give me 
what I want." 

Roderick hesitated for a moment. 

" You've got the best of me, Raymond," he said at last. 
" If I do what you ask, are we quits?" 

" I'll make you no promises, Roderick. Those things I 
will have, for they concern me." 

Roderick yielded without another word ; and Richard let 
go his hold, and, with the pistol in one hand, he said, — 

" Now go on, and tell me all." 

Roderick began, 

" The records and badge are with the Royal Rupee Mint, 
and are deposited with my friend Mobarak, in his safe in 
the Bhendi Bazaar. I just moved them there from their last 
hiding-place. The locket and the signet are in my belt. 
The memoranda of the disposition I made of the bonds and 
securities are in my valise there : it is unlocked. The writ- 
ten statement for Mr. Clayton I will give you when you will 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 



411 



let me write. The boy I have not got, and don't know who 
has. I left him with a fellow in Benares ; and he got scared, 
and sent him away with some pilgrims. He said they were 
coming up to the Feast of Pungas. I came here to look for 
them." 

Without a word, Mr. Raymond opened Roderick Dennett's 
coat and vest ; and, reaching the belt, unbuttoned it, and drew 
it off, Dennett did not move^ or make any remonstrance. 
The locket and signet were there. He opened the valise, 
and found the memoranda. Then he gave the valise to 
Moro, who stood behind the inner door. He turned to 
Roderick, and asked, — 

" Where are the receipts for your luggage, that you said 
was at the station ? " 

" You've nothing to do with my luggage," replied Dennett 
sullenly. 

" Give me the receipts," said Richard sternly. 

The man produced them, and Richard gave them to Moro. 

" Take the valise to my room, and have the luggage sent 
there at once," he said briefly, giving him a rupee. The boy 
left without a word • it was an adventure that he enjoyed. 

" Sayad," said Richard, " take a garri, and go to Mobarak 
in the Bhendi Bazaar. Tell him the chief of the Bombay 
service, and secretary of the viceroy, commands him to come 
at once to the Dak Bungalow, and bring with him Roderick 
Dennett's box. Bring him with you : if he refuse, call the 
English police. Give them my card, and have him brought." 

With military precision, as though he was entirely used 
to the business, Sayad departed. 

Richard took paper and pen from the table in the room ; 
and, releasing Roderick's hands that he had bound, allowed 



412 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

him to sit up and write the statement, while he sat on the 
edge of the bed with the pistol in his hand, and Scott looked 
at his friend in astonishment. 

When the paper was ready, Mr. Raymond looked at it, 
nodded his head approvingly, signed it himself, asked Scott 
to sign it, and then put it in his pocket. 

" Now about the boy," said Richard. " Have you lied 
to me ? " 

" I might well have lied about the whole," replied Roderick 
with a sneer. " You're not dealing on the square with me, 
Rich. Raymond." 

" No ? " said Richard. 

" It's none of your business to meddle with me, now that 
you've got the signet and the badge and the rupee press," 
muttered Roderick in a surly way. 

"Thank fortune, it's not an absolute duty of my office to 
turn you over to be hanged ! " replied Richard ; " but it 
would be a favor that the government would remember, and 
reward well, I assure you." 

Roderick made no reply ; and Richard asked again, — 

" How is it about the boy?" 

" Just as I told you." 

" But no one is going to keep him without being paid 
for it," said Richard sternly. And while he sat carefully 
watching the man, he began with one hand to take rolls 
of Bank-of-England notes for immense sums from the belt ; 
then he carefully put them back again, and folding the belt 
up, he put it in his coat-pocket. 

" The fellow gave the pilgrims a hundred pounds to take 
the child off his hands," said Roderick. " And he says he 
promised a hundred more when they delivered him to me 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 413 

here in Delhi. I don't know who I'm waiting for ; but I'm 
waiting for them here, and I expect they'll find me some way ; 
but now, if you've taken up the trail, I'll let it drop. 'Twas 
rough luck for me that I got you to run away to sea with 
me," he added with a sneer. 

" You might have had friends who would have served you 
worse," replied Richard calmly. " But you must not leave me 
just now. You will be more likely to find the boy than I 
shall, and I'll keep this belt till you do find him. You can 
go ahead, and find the boy : and when you have brought him 
to me, I will return the belt ; it will be ten times the reward 
that is offered for him," he added, smiling sarcastically. 

Just then Sayad came in triumphantly, followed by a native 
of Africa, black as the blackest men of Zanzibar. He was 
much agitated, and dropped on the fioor as he entered, touch- 
ing his forehead a dozen times to the ground. 

He brought with him a leather portmanteau, that was 
sealed over the keyhole, and evidently very heavy. He laid it 
at Mr. Raymond's feet ; and, without a word, Roderick took a 
key from his pocket, and passed it to Sayad, who gave it to 
Mr. Raymond. 

" Ha, you ! Mobarak, I have seen you before," said Rich- 
ard. " You used to live in Bombay. You were a bad man 
then ; and you have been growing worse, it seems. The air 
of Delhi does not agree with you. Go over there in the 
corner, and sit down on the floor. Don't you move, or I 
will shoot you dead before you can shut your eyes." ' 

He took a pistol from his pocket, and handed it to Sayad, 
directing him to watch the African banker, who had been 
engaged in passing Dennett's counterfeit rupees, and possibly 
in manufacturing them. Then he proceeded to open the 



414 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



valise, and seemed satisfied with the contents, as he closed 
it again, and, rising, asked Sayad if the carriage was at the 
door. 

" Get up on the top, you drop of Afric's sunny fountains," 
he said to the black banker, who instantly obeyed. " I'm 
going to take you back to your booth, and let you go on 
with your business. But let me hear of your passing another 
of these rupees, and it's a prison for life for you. Roderick, 
I hope to hear from you directly," he added as they all left 
the Bungalow. 

The banker made a profound salaam, touching the earth 
again in his gratitude : then he climbed to a seat beside the 
driver of the garri. 

" We have taken another step," said Richard as they were 
being driven away ; '* and I hope the next will be the finding 
of little Paul." He spoke as calmly as though they had only 
seen another ruin. 

Then the day of the great Feast of Pungas dawned clear 
and warm, but nothing had been heard from Roderick Den- 
nett. 

" There is more than two hundred thousand dollars in that 
belt that I deposited with the English bankers," Richard said 
to Scott. " Depend upon it, he will redeem it." 

They went out into the city, and mingled with the excited 
crowd. It was a novel sight to Scott, and he almost forgot 
his anxiety in the constant changes. 

At last the grand procession of elephants was coming 
down the street. ,It would pass the open square before the 
Cashmere gate. 

" We will get into a good position here where we can see 
it," said Richard ; and they stationed themselves as near the 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST 415 

track as the already dense crowd would permit. They were 
in the very front before the procession passed. 

The long lines of gaudily decked elephants were on their 
way. One end had already disappeared before the other end 
came in sight. Scott was beginning to grow weary, when his 
eyes fell upon a little boy in European clothes, all alone in 
the dense throng of natives. He started : he trembled in 
every limb. The crowd swept on, and he lost sight of the 
boy. He caught Mr. Raymond's hand ; he tried in vain to 
speak ; he pointed, and dragged him forward. A sharp cry 
broke upon his ear from the voice he so well remembered. 
He was so excited that he did not distinguish the words, 
but others less interested heard, — 

" Dhondaram, Dhondaram ! " 

" In a moment the entire throng was transformed. It was 
electrified : it was demoralized. Cries of " Dhondaram ! " 
"Dhondaram!" rose on every side. Richard forgot Scott; 
and, freeing himself from his grasp, he started forward, think- 
ing only of Dhondaram. 

At the instant that the voice sounded, Scott, who was a 
little in advance of Mr. Raymond, had seen the little figure 
of his brother Paul dart before a huge elephant. He sprang 
after him. The elephant moved his trunk to one side to avoid 
the little stranger, and it struck Scott a severe blow that 
threw him down. In an instant the excited crowd was 
trampling upon him. He gave a sharp cry of pain, and a 
moment later was dragged from his perilous position, and in 
the strong arms of Mr. Raymond was carried away to the 
hotel. 

Scott was severely bruised. For three days his mind 
wandered, and Mr. Raymond and the best doctors that could 



4i6 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



be obtained fought with a raging fever that almost defied 
them. He incessantly talked of Paul and Dhondaram ; and, 
when he came to himself again, he repeated almost the same 
thing, only that then he did not associate Dhondaram with 
Paul. 

Mr. Raymond did not feel at all sure that Scott was cor- 




MASSURI IN THE MOUNTAINS. 



rect, and that it was not a dream of his delirium ; but he 
allowed him to have his way, and pretended to believe that he 
had really seen Paul somewhere in the procession. 

A week later, when Scott had nearly recovered, Richard 
receved a telegram, as follows : — 

" Come to Massuri at once. Paul is in the mountains : I dare 
not follow alone. There is somethins: wrongf. 

"Roderick Dennett." 



SCOTT AT THE HINDU FEAST. 417 

"The mountain air will be the best thing for you, Scott," 
said Richard ; " and I would rather take you with me than 
leave you behind. You can stop at Massuri if there is 
trouble, or you are not strong." 

" Indeed, I will go ! " exclaimed Scott eagerly. 

" Very well, then : we will leave for the Himalaya Moun- 
tains on the express to-night," replied Richard. 



41 8 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 




CHAPTER XXIV. 

YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 

HEN he had finished his supper of milk and rice- 
cakes, — and Httle Paul was very hungry, for he had 
eaten nothing but sweet limes and bananas, and had 
taken a long walk, and suffered a deal of anxiety 
for a small boy in the mean time, — Dhondaram ate what was 
left, and sat down beside him. 

" Did you bring that for your supper too, Dhondaram ? " 
asked Paul, looking up into the face that so many feared to 
the very marrow of their bones. " I wasn't very good to eat 
so much of it ; " and he stroked the bearded cheek, and put 
his little white hands over the black eyes that had made the 
blood of many a strong man turn cold. 

" I was only helping the little Feringhi," replied Dhon- 
daram gently. "And now is my little sahib sleepy? Will he 
lie down in this poor place, and shut his pretty blue eyes ? 
It is not comfortable." 

"Anywhere where you are, Dhondaram, is very nice. I 
will not stay again in a place like the biri wallah's, where you 
left me this morning. I will follow you without waiting. I 
am glad I came and found you." 

" I am glad too," replied Dhondaram as he spread out a 
mat on the hard floor, and made it as soft as he could by 
folding another mat under it, and putting his turban under 
the top to act as a pillow. He did not tell little Paul that 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



419 



the remnant of his supper was all he had eaten since the 
night before on the banks of the Jumna, or that there was not 
another mat for him to lie on. He brought a little cup of 
water, and washed Paul's face and hands as tenderly as a 
mother could have done it, — though not so proficiently, 
of course, — and wiped them on his girdle. Then he laid 
the little fellow upon the mats, and cross-legged sat down 
beside him. 

" Kashibai will be here in the morning," he said ; " and she 
will make the place more comfortable." 

" Who is Kashibai, Dhondaram ? " asked Paul as he lay 
comfortably stretched on the mats. 

" She is very good ; she is Gunga's mother : she will love 
you," replied the muni. 

" I love Gunga," said the boy. "When am I going to see 
her?" 

" Soon, soon," replied Dhondaram. 

" Dhondaram," said Paul looking up, " who gave you your 
name ? " 

" My mother," replied Dhondaram solemnly. 

" Who is my mother, Dhondaram ? " 

The muni hesitated for a moment. " Gunga's mother, 
Kashibai, will be your mother : she will love you." 

"Will she give me a name too?" asked Paul. "You have 
nothing to call me by but Feringhi, and that means ' something 
different ; ' and I don't want to be something different ; I want 
to be just the same. I am sorry I am white. Couldn't you 
make me dark, like you, Dhondaram ? " 

A fire seemed flashing from Dhondaram's eyes. , He was 
silent for a moment : then he said suddenly, " Yes ; if you 
would like it I can make the little Feringhi almost as dark as 
am. 



420 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" And call me something like you too," exclaimed the boy, 
sitting upright with a cry of joy. 

" You shall be my brother, my Dhakta Bhai. No, no ! " he 
added hurriedly, " I am not good enough for that. You shall 
be my master, — my Swami. Your name shall be Hari. It is 
the name of my God." 

" I be your master, and you mind little me ! you're terribly 
big for that ! " said Hari- Paul ; but he threw himself into the 
arms that had held the knotted rumal and the blood-stained 
dagger, and nestled there ; sending a thrill through the iron 
heart to stop whose beating the British government offered 
to pay over ten thousand dollars in gold. 

" I can mind you all the better for being large," said the 
muni at last ; but the voice trembled that had rung firm and 
clear before death and all sorts of terrible dangers, and the 
eyes that had never flinched were dimmed with tears. 

" I want you to be my elephant, and carry me as the ele- 
phants did the men to-day," said Paul at last, clapping his 
hands, and starting to his feet. 

" I'm hardly big enough for that," said Dhondaram ; " but 
I can be your horse. Come you, my Hari-Sahib, get on my 
back, and we will go where you will." 

And the bare-headed muni, the terror of India, on his 
hands and knees went galloping round the bare floor of that 
dimly lighted, wretched room, with the pale-faced, blue-eyed, 
brown-haired Hari-Paul crowing and laughing and shouting 
on his back, his little hands clinging mercilessly to the lock 
of long black hair that in Hindu fashion grew from the top of 
his horse's head. 

It mattered little that he had walked all night with the 
boy upon his shoulder, and that he had walked all day in the 



422 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



procession : Dhondaram was as wild and happy as Paul. And 
yet the boy was not quite happy ; for the very excitement 
of the game seemed to bring back to him other hours, — hours 
full of sunshine and laughing, — and other surroundings, when 
he had not been the Hindu Hari, but — 

He tried in vain to catch the dream. It vanished, as it 
always had, just as it touched his eyes. 

When the sport was ended, Hari, at a loss for something 
new, said, — 

" Now you must make me dark, just like you, Dhon- 
daram." 

" I will get something to put on your hands, and let you 
see how you like it, my Hari-Sahib," replied the muni. " I 
will come back at once, and bring it with me." 

He went out, and Paul began to be frightened again 
the moment he was alone. He would have followed had he 
not found the door locked again. But Dhondaram had only 
gone around one corner to a dye-house, where he was sure 
he was unknown, and there procured the material with which 
he stained the boy's hands and face a delicate brown. They 
were not so dark as the muni's, but they were no longer 
white ; and Paul was happy. He lay down again, and this 
time he was fast asleep in a moment. 

He slept soundly. He did not know that the muni, close 
to his little brown head, sat cross-legged on the floor, leaning 
against the wall, and only half sleeping, anxiously starting up 
at every sound ; and that many a time he put his hand out in 
the dark to see if all were well with his little god Hari. Near 
morning he gently cut off one of the brown curls that clustered 
about the boy's head, but it did not disturb him. 

When Paul awoke in the morning the room was much 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



423 



changed. There were two small screens and several mats ; 
there was a little fire in a small iron stove that could be 
carried about in the hand, burning in one corner, and over it 
a woman was cooking the breakfast. She was a Hindu woman, 
very delicate and pretty in figure, wearing only a little close- 
fitting chouli about her shoul- 
ders, that hardly reached her 
waist, and a briMit cloth bound 
closely about her hips. Her 
legs and arms were bare, except 
for broad bands of gold and 
silver that circled her wrists and 
ankles ; and there were large 
ear-rings in her ears, and a 
little gold star on one side of 
her nose. On her toes were 
silver rings, that clinked as she 
walked on the bare places on 
the floor. Beside the fire sat 
Dhondaram. Paul knew it was 
Dhondaram, for he heard his 
voice. But what a change ! A 
huge red turban was twisted 
about his head in graceful, but 
brigandish folds. His beard was shaven off, leaving only a 
heavy mustache that looked fiercer than ever. Instead of the 
plain muni's frock that was all he had worn, bound at the 
waist with a simple girdle, he wore a loose woollen jacket, with 
flowing sleeves. An enormous girdle, the same color as his 
turban, was wound about his waist ; and he wore a pair of 
loose woollen breeches to the knees, and a pair of heavy 




DHONDARAM IN AEMOR. 



424 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



sandals on his feet. Leaning against the wall behind him was 
a sword almost five feet long. 

Dhondaram and the woman were enp-ao-ed in earnest 
conversation in a low tone, but Paul could distinctly hear and 
understand most of what they said, 

"Why should I defile myself?" muttered the woman. 
"Am I not a Bramhan woman? Are you not a Bramhan ? 
Am I not desolate -that you wander as you do ? Do I not 
die every day, till the wind is ever in my bones ? Am I not 
cursed by the breath that I breathe, and the food that I eat ? 
Have I not already defiled myself a thousand times, till my 
penance and purification keep me the day long, and the 
voice of the mother speaks feebly now. and sometimes not 
at all ? When will this wandering cease, Dhondaram ? When 
will these wild ideas of yours have rest ? The boy is well 
enough. I wish him no ill. I would do him no ill. I would 
injure no one. I hate no one except the ones you hate, and 
who have injured you. But why, in ^he blissful moment when 
the gods and the mother smile upon me, and place the rose 
in my bosom, the attar on my hair ; when the star is once 
more in my heaven, and the breath again in my body ; when 
I can cook the food that Dhondaram eats, and fan Dhondaram 
while he eats it ; when I live again, O jewel of my crown of 
joy ! — why ask me to die in this hour, and defile myself again ? 
And yet I will do it. Yes, I will feed and bathe the . Feringhi. 
Yes, I will care for him. Yes, by the mother, on the neck 
of my daughter Gunga, I swear I would nurse a pariah upon 
my breast if Dhondaram should ask it." 

" Dhondaram does not ask it," replied the muni, " Cursed 
be the day, and defiled he that breathes in the hour, that 
Dhondaram asks any thing of any one. To the viceroy from 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 425 

England, to the guru, the pundit, the rajah, Dhondaram 
speaks ; and cursed is he who forgets to hear. Who will not 
tell you so ? Did you not hear the city howling yesterday 
with the name of Dhondaram ? It will howl again and again, 
till Dhondaram's thirst is quenched. But to you Dhondaram 
does not speak. He thinks ; and you read his thoughts, and 
do as it pleases you. Who ever bound thy hand ? Thou art 
Kashibai. I am Dhondaram. Thou art the holy mother's, and 
I am — well, I am Bhowani's too ; but to you she is soft and 
gentle ; she is fairest of all the blest in the paradise of Indra : 
to me she is blood and death and cruelty. Who am I, that I 
should wish you to do what I would do willingly ? No : the 
little Feringhi shall go with me." 

He turned to Paul ; and, seeino- that he was awake, he 
crossed the room, and bendinof over him he asked, — 

" Would the little Sahib like to go into the mountains 
with me ? " 

Paul's lip trembled. He had been frightened by the con- 
versation that he had overheard, and by the new costume 
that made Dhondaram look so savage. He realized that 
the woman did not like to have him there. In fact, though 
•he did not know it, he was homesick ; and the name by which 
Dhondaram called him was the last straw. He turned over 
on the mat, and began to cry. 

" Oh, I am not a Feringhi ! I am not a Feringhi ! I am 
not ' something different ' ! I wish it were last night," he 
sobbed. " Look at my hands, Dhondaram, look ! I am 
black. I am like you." 

He held up his little hands. The muni caught them, and 
pressed them to his forehead. 

"It is last night now, and always will be while Dhondaram 



426 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



is free," he responded solemnly. " You are my Hari, my 
god of gods, now and always. It is not that I am rich that 
you love me. ■ I have given you no gold ornaments. I have, 
only a little water here with which to bathe you. I will bring 
you some breakfast and sweet limes then, and to-night ,we 
will start for the mountains." 

" I want to see Gunga," said Paul, still sobbing a little. 

At four o'clock that afternoon, right through the crowded 
streets of Delhi, a Brinjari chieftain walked slowly, with head 
erect, and a little Persian boy beside him, affectionately 
clinging to his hand. The light brown skin of the Persian 
contrasted peculiarly with the darker hue of the Brinjari chief 
in his dashing costume ; and many a one, as they passed, 
stopped to look at the bright blue eyes that were so peculiar 
and unusual, and shuddered at sight of the ugly sword 
hanging over the right shoulder of the chief. Many even 
stopped the servant who was carrying a large bundle on his 
head behind them, to ask him which of the great men of 
his people this one was. But he only stared at thern, and 
shook his head. Scott would hardly have recognized little 
Paul, and no one in all Delhi repeated the name of Dhon- 
daram when they saw the chief. 

They stopped at a booth in the outskirts of the bazaar ; 
and Dhondaram bought a sack of maize meal, and a small 
bunch of little red peppers, which the servant added to the 
bundle upon his head. 

They even walked directly to the English railway-station, 
and in the mountain dialect the servant purchased tickets in 
the third-class car for Amritsar. Dhondaram and Paul stopped 
for a moment before such a notice as Scott saw on the Cash- 
mere gate, then took their places in a car already crowded 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB. 



427 



with natives. They fell back, and gave them more room than 
any one else had in the car ; looking suspiciously at the long 
sword, but not suspiciously at Dhondaram. 

They stopped when within twenty miles of the city. 
Dhondaram was perfectly informed about every thing, and 




THE CORN-CHANDLER. 



knew that a caravan he wished to join had not yet reached 
the station. 

It was a little lonely country town, on a narrow, rushing 
mountain river. Dhondaram, with Paul and his servant, 
walked up the bank a little way, and took a native boat, to 
be carried to the caravan trail that passed at no great 
distance. 

As they were about to embark, Paul caught sight of a 
little stone figure that looked like a tiny elephant sitting on 



428 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



his haunches, and having fore-feet like his own hands and 
arms. 

"What is it? what is it?" he asked eagerly, as a native, 
bareheaded, came up to the little image, and began to pour 
water over it, and to drape it with flowers. 

Dhondaram's lips curved scornfully, much as they had 



■ >.; -^ 



^/r 















BATHING AN IDOI.. 



when looking at the image of Kali. He was evidently not 
the devout Hindu that many thought him. 

"An atom of God," he replied In an undertone. "That 
man Is bathing his preserver. He is praying," he said 
aloud. 

"Do you never pray in that way?" asked Paul: "if you 
do, will you teach me ? " 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB. 429 

"Why should I pray Hke that?" said the muni. "God 
is everywhere. The great essence of Bramha fills all space. 
If I would pray to an elephant, it should be to one that God 
had made, and not to one that some beggar had manufactured 
to earn his bread." 

" But I never pray at all, Dhondaram. And now I am 
like you, and have a name, and all that ; and I want to learn 
to pray. Can't I pray without pounding myself the way you 
do ? I tried to do that when I was at the biri wallah's, and 
found you were not there ; but it hurt me." 

The muni stroked his little hand ; and answered, — 

"That was only for the boatmen: 1 was not praying to 
God. The great, real Bramha cannot be pleased to see men 
hurt themselves. No, no, my Harl ! I know very little : I 
am perplexed. Religion is a myth, a folly : God alone is a 
reality. There is some way to worship him, but it is not as 
I and my people do it. You are little now, but you will know 
it all some day ; and when you have found out what God is, 
and how he is best worshipped, if Dhondaram is still alive, 
you must come back and tell him, and he will kneel at your 
feet and worship God, — your God, my Hari." 

" How could I come back to you when I am never, never 
going away from you, Dhondaram ! " exclaimed Paul. " Teach 
me, oh, teach me to pray like you and every one else ! " 

They had been floating rapidly down the river, and now 
were landed where they had but a short walk over the hills 
to the caravan trail. The boat moved away ; and, sending 
the servant on ahead, Dhondaram sat upon the ground close 
upon the bank of the river, and, drawing Paul to him, said, — 

" I will teach you a prayer, little Hari-Sahib, — a prayer 
that you will never be told not to say ; and I can show you 



430 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



how to say it. I cannot say it in the language that we are 
speaking, but in my own language, the Marathi. You will not 
understand it all ; but you can remember it, and know that 
you are praying to God." 

He bathed his face and hands that he might be clean, 
according to his own teaching ; and very slowly he repeated, 
and Paul followed him, — 

" He amachya Akashantil Bapa, tujhe nam pavitra manile 
zavo ; tujhe rajya yevo ; jase akashant tase prithvivarahi tujhya 
ichchhepramane hovo ; amachi rozachi bharkar az amhas de ; 
ani jase amhi apalya rinyas sodato, tase tu amachi rine amhas 
sod ; ani amhas parikshent neu nako, tar amhas waitapasun 
sodiv ; kaki rajya ani parakram ani mahima hi sarvakal tujhi 
ahet. Amen." 

Over and over again they went through the prayer, till Paul 
could repeat it almost without a mistake, kneeling by the 
muni's side, and closing his brown hands before his breast. 

Then suddenly they heard the voice of the servant calling 
from the top of the hill, that the caravan was already in sight ; 
and taking Paul on his shoulder, Dhondaram hurried on. 

Reaching the point where the servant stood, they could 
see a dense cloud of dust rising in the plain beyond ; and 
through it they could discern horses and camels, and a vast 
herd of cattle, with men and women and children all about 
them. Paul clung more closely to Dhondaram. 

"The little Hari must not fear," he said. "They are all 
friends of mine there. I feared they would not be here so 
soon. We shall go a little way with them, for they have 
news for me ; and you need not be tired any more, for 
while we are with them you shall ride upon a fine horse, and 
the servant here will ride behind you to hold you fast." 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 431 

" I would rather ride here on your shoulder," said Paul. 

" You will have plenty of chances for this, Hari-Sahib, 
when we cannot find a horse." 

Several of the leaders now came rapidly riding up to 
Dhondaram. They had no difficulty in recognizing him, and, 
dismounting, made very low salaams, as though he were a ruler 
among them. 

Hastily directing his servant to mount one of the horses 
that those before him had brought up, he placed Paul before 
him, and gave the bundle to one of the soldiers of the cara- 
van who now reached them. Then he pressed Paul's hand to 
his forehead, and said, — 

" You are safe, little Sahib. You have but to speak, and 
they will bring me ; and very soon I shall ride beside you." 

Then, turning to the officers, he spoke in a language that 
Paul could not understand ; nor could he have heard much, 
for the servant immediately drove away with him. 

"What news from the Nana?" was what Dhondaram 
asked ; and the officer replied, — 

" He is still in danger : the wound mends slowly. He 
much fears that he may die before the work is completed." 

" Send him word from me at once," said Dhondaram, 
" that only one of the condemned remains alive. Tell him 
that this one is now in these mountains ; tell him that I have 
a magnet that is drawing him toward me, and that he shall 
hear of his death in less than a month. Tell him to recover ; 
but if he dies, tell him to die in peace : Dhondaram has 
fulfilled the vow." 

He turned abruptly ; and, mounting another of the horses, 
evidently caring little how the fellows who had come up on 
them disposed of themselves, he rode on, and a moment later 
was beside little Paul. 



432 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



The men in the caravan were generally dressed much like 
Dhondaram ; and the women often wore long pointed orna- 
ments on their heads, to which their veils, or saris, were 
attached. Several of them had little naked children in their 
arms, and there were other children riding like Paul. Paul 
noticed that the cows all had curious saddles, and each one 
was laden with a small burden. Before the whole walked an 

immense bull, a stately fel- 
low, without a burden ex- 
cept a garland of flowers. 

Some of the merchants 
travelling with the caravan 
were most elaborately dec- 
orated. Their packs were 
on their camels' backs, — 
sometimes silk and costly 
cashmeres, sometimes 
precious stones or oils. 
They often had servants, 
and some of them a few 
private soldiers with them. 
They were often rolled up 
in limitless folds of cloth, over head and all, and always carried 
on their shoulders a long-barrelled and richly ornamented gun. 

A half hour before twilight the stately bull seemed to be 
examining the sun. It was round and red. Very soon he 
stopped, and began to eat the grass that grew abundantly in 
the valley. Then all the natives along the line, in their scanty 
costumes and with long blunt spears, who had been keeping 
the cows in motion when they would have stopped to eat, 
drove them together, and removed the saddles, letting them 




THE MERCHANT. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



433 



wander where they would. The horses were tethered by ropes 
from their necks to their fore-ankle. Here and there Paul 
noticed a man go a little way apart from the rest. They 
were Mussulmans, — though Paul did not know what that had 




THE DAY'S MAKCH THKOUGH THE MOUNTAINS. 



to do with it, — and, dismounting from their camels, before 
they set them free they knelt beside them in prayer. They 
spread little mats upon the ground, and, taking off their 
shoes, stood erect, placing their thumbs to their ears, and 
opening their hands so that the psjms were presented toward 



434 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



Mecca : thus they began the prayer. Then they folded their 
hands upon their breasts, and with their heads bowed they 
prayed again ; then placed their hands upon their knees ; then 
knelt, with their hands still on their knees, and continued. 
After this they laid their hands upon the ground, and touched 
their foreheads several times to the earth. 

"That's another kind of praying, isn't it?" asked Paul, 
who, with Dhondaram, sat upon a little rug eating the food 
that the servant had prepared for them. 

" Yes," replied the muni, with a sneer : " they call it 
praying." 

"Isn't it so good as mine?" the boy asked earnestly. 

" God may hear it ; but, if he does, it is through pity," 
replied the muni, with another sneer. 

" See if I can say my prayer," said Paul ; and, without 
waiting for an answer, he bathed his face and hands in Hindu 
fashion, by turning a little water for the purpose from a basin 
before him, and catching it in his hands ; then, kneeling 
by Dhondaram's knee, he repeated over and over again the 
prayer that the muni had taught him, needing much help, 
but every time improving. It became dark while he was 
praying, and a few torches and a few large fires were lighted 
to keep off the wild beasts. 

Suddenly a clear voice sounded from no great distance, 
chanting in Hindustani the old, old desert hymn of the Mus- 
sulman. Paul understood every word. 



"Whoever thou art, whose need is great, 
In the name of God, the compassionate 
And the merciful one, 
For thee I wait." 



436 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"That's pretty good," said Paul, as It sounded again and 
again and again from different parts of the caravan, where 
Mussulmans were wrapping themselves up for the night. 

"It would be," replied Dhondaram, "if they meant it." 

" How are we to sleep?" asked Paul, who noticed for the 
first time, that, instead of the sun, it was the moon that was 
shining brightly ; and in the moonlight, the plain before them 
that had appeared so fresh and green with its grass and little 
flowers was now but a barren mass of ragged rocks outlined 
against the shadows, and by the moon there seemed to rise 
a huge mountain. Paul had not seen it before, and eagerly 
asked, — 

" Where did that come from, Dhondaram ? " 

" It is only a cloud," said the muni, " driven up by cur- 
rents of air through the gorges. One sees very curious 
things here in the mountains. But we shall have a good 
place to sleep. They have prepared a tent for us." And 
rising, he took Paul in his arms, dreading even to let him 
touch his little feet to the uncertain ground, and carried him 
to a low camel's-hair tent, of black and white stripes, under 
which they both crept, and where Paul slept as soundly on 
the strong arm of Dhondaram as though it had been upon a 
soft white pillow in the cottage at Beverly Farms. 

The next day the caravan wound up a river-bank. Ragged 
mountains rose up almost directly out of the water. Upon 
their rocky sides deodars were growing, straight as arrows, 
though they were rooted only in clefts of the rocks in almost 
perpendicular precipices, and fed only on the dying lichens, 
and icy rills from the melting snows up above. 

Paul looked long and earnestly at the snowy peaks. 

" Where have I ever seen snow before ? " he asked 
Dhondaram. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



437 



" In your home, Hari-Sahib," he repHed. 

"Have I a home?" he asked again. Dhondaram looked 
down at him. He was riding now before the muni. The 
blue eyes looked up wonderingly, 

" You must go to it, my treasure. You shall go to it. 
Dhondaram will not keep you." 





- , •—'^^—^ji--^^-- 




UP AMONG THE SNOWS. 



" But I want you to go, too, Dhondaram. Where is it ? 
Is it far from here ? " asked Paul. 

"Far?" the muni laughed. "Far? Yes: it is far from 
here." There was a strange tremor in his voice : it was very 
unnatural. Paul said suddenly, — 

"But you will go, Dhondaram? You must go. Where 
is it?" 

" You shall know before long. You shall know all about 



438 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



it," remarked the muni sadly ; " and you will not forget old 
Dhondaram. No, you will not forget him." 

Paul threw one arm around the muni's neck : tears filled 
the clear blue eyes, and ran down over the brown cheeks. 
They were not so brown as at first. The dye was not lasting, 
and was wearino- off. Dhondaram would not have renewed 




THE GOLDEN TEMPLE. 



it for the world. His treasure was the pale-faced boy. There 
were tears, too, in the muni's eyes. 

When they reached Amritsar they only remained to visit 
the beautiful golden temple, in the centre of the clear, cold 
mountain lake, and to exchange a few sentences in a language 
that Paul could not understand, with several bands of munis 
and pilgrims that were there. 

The city was greatly disturbed by notices posted every- 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



439 



where, stating that the great Guru, or the high priest of the 
golden temple, had seen in a vision that his holy father, who 
lately died, had been transformed into a fish, and was then 
swimming about in the lake. On account of this he forbade 
any one, under penalty of death, to catch a fish in the lake. 
The greater part of the population of the city was composed 
of poor or pilgrims, who depended chiefly upon the fish in 
the lake for food, and something like starvation stared them 
in the face. But Paul cared very little for Amritsar or the 
mandate, as he held fast to the muni's hand, and looked only 
into his face. 

It produced no effect on the boy when the muni said to 
him, " We must go to Massuri : it is a hard journey, but we 
will make it easy for the little Hari-Sahib," any more than it 
would if he had said " We will go to the other end of the 
world to-morrow." If Dhondaram only went with him he did 
not care. 

With a small escort of mountaineers they started into the 
defiles, the soldiers taking the lead and bringing up the rear. 

Sometimes the way led through beautiful valleys, with 
lovely flowers, and giant trees, and roaring mountain streams, 
with little bridges across them that were composed simply of 
branches of birch-trees twisted together ; and they would sag 
and bend and tremble when they were on them. But Paul 
clasped the muni's hand so much the closer, and followed 
where he led, only keeping quiet when he was frightened, and 
laughing when he was not. 

His face and hands became quite white again ; and he 
asked to have them once more colored, "With a black that 
will go all over me, and last till I am a great man like 
you." 



440 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



But the muni only assured him that he had no more of 
the material with him, and that he must wait ; and, as long 
as Dhondaram did not call him Feringhi, it made less 
difference. 

Sometimes they were under the shadow of towering 
mountains, where the eternal snows lay in the gorges ; and 
Paul was carried in a sort of bag, hung on a bamboo pole 

that rested on the 
shoulders of sturdy 
mountaineers. The 
bag was open on 
one side ; and as he 
sat in it his feet 
hung out, and to 
prevent them from 
striking against the 
rocks, or being in- 
jured, they rested in 
a smaller bag just 
below. A dandi the 
mountaineers called 
the carriage ; and, as 
Paul was very light, they carried him so easily that he thought 
it almost as comfortable as riding on Dhondaram's shoulder. 

Often among the peaks and gorges there were curious 
stone houses, where they could rest for the night, — " caravan- 
sarais " Dhondaram called them ; and the people that clustered 
about them from the little hamlets in those almost inac- 
cessible recesses were as peculiar and interesting to Paul as 
was the little white-faced boy to them. 

While the servant who had come with them from Delhi 




A CURIOUS PEOPLE. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 



441 



was preparing the fire and supper, these people would gather 
round, anxious to see and speak with any one who had come 
from " the world," as they called anywhere out of the Hima- 
layas. 

Many of them who had never seen a white boy before 
would creep up timidly and touch Paul's cheek, and then 
look at their fingers to 
see if the white came off. 
Their clothes were ugly ; 
but their faces were kind, 
and the smiles were pleas- 
ant. Many a merry time 
had the boy in playing 
with the superstitious 
children, who were mor- 
tally afraid of him if he 
really approached them, 
and in laughing over their 
struggles to speak Hin- 
dustani, in which, unwit- 
tingly, he had become a 
very competent little 
scholar. 




r 




THE WOODCTTTTEE. 



The older and braver would take off his hat, and proudly 
walk about beneath it, and question him, till his brain became 
bewildered, about the dye he used to make his hair so brown ; 
while they displayed with pride the reddish-yellow ends of 
their own black hair. 

Wood-cutters at their work in the vast forests would stop 
with their bundles on their heads, and drop their straight- 
helved axes to look at the little Feringhi riding past them in 



442 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



a dandi ; and shepherdesses, with rings in their noses, and 
leather belts full of turquoise about their waists, and large 
bundles of hay balanced on their heads, would pause as they 
leaped over the rocks after the goats, to make a salaam to 
the white sahib, and wish him a godspeed (the speed of a 
heathen god, at least) down out of the mountains. 

Going as he did, Paul 
found a trip through the 
Himalayas a very much 
easier affair than many 
older ones have found it. 
He did not realize the 
dangers of the precipice. 
He had not been told 
that he should be dizzy, 
and that his head should 
swim, as he looked down 
those perpendicular cliffs, 
sometimes three thou- 
sand feet and more into 
the black gorges, where 
he could not even distin- 
sHEPHERDEss. gulsh thc grcat towering 

deodars : so, holding fast to Dhondaram's hand, he looked 
down and laughed, and pretended he was about to jump, to 
see the muni spring and catch him. 

He would sometimes even laugh on the trembling birch- 
branch bridges crossing the deep gorges. What did he care 
for the roaring mountain rivers, though they were five hun- 
dred feet below ? He would have stood under an avalanche, 
tearing down the mountain-side, and jumped for joy to see 





THE BLACK GORGES. 



444 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



the great masses come bounding on ; he would have waited 
to watch the progress of some of the fearful land-slides, so 
much more dreaded than the avalanches ; he would have 
shouted in concert with the numberless echoes of the crash, 
crash, crash, of some great bowlder tearing down the moun- 
tain-side, though it came directly toward him, so long as he 
held that sinewy brown hand in his, and felt the hard muscles 
of the fingers as they gently clasped his little palm. 

What did he know about the blood-stained daggers and 
knotted rumals, and vows of terrible vengeance against a 
long list that Dhondaram and Nana Sahib called the " con- 
demned," and all the rest ? What did it matter ? 

It grew colder as they went higher ; but Dhondaram had 
known what was before them, and provided warm blankets 
of goatskin, in which Paul was so perfectly enveloped that 
the air proved but bracing, and the roses came back again to 
the cheeks that had been very pale ever since the terrible 
drugs to which Roderick Dennett had subjected him. He 
grew stronger every day. A European, to cross those passes, 
would have made out an endless list of necessities. He 
would have had a small army of servants. He would have 
suffered all the way. Dhondaram had crossed the mountains 
many times before. He knew just what little was a necessity, 
and where and how to provide every thing else by the way. 

At last they reached a little village far up among the snow 
peaks, in a little gorge between the eternal ice, where three 
or four hundred people live, no one knows how or why. 
They do nothing, they export nothing, they import nothing 
(nothing but tobacco, which they obtain in exchange for goat- 
skins). The houses were all front doors and one large hole 
dug out of the mountain behind them. It was in the midst 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 445 

of ice, yet it was not cold there ; and very near at hand the 
goats — the village was supplied with several hundred — found 
abundant pasturage, often being obliged to stand almost erect, 
the cliffs upon which they feed are so nearly perpendicular. 

The people lived upon the goats' milk and the goats' flesh, 
and made their clothes from the goats', skins. They made 
very bad liquor, upon which they succeeded in getting drunk, 
out of the cedars growing just below ; and while the warm 
winds blew they raised just enough grain to keep them from 
starving till they could raise more. They sat in those front 
doors and smoked their hookahs all day long, for want of 
any thing in the world to do. For the rest that was absolutely 
necessary, they trusted to what little money they might receive 
from passing travellers. 

" This is the last but one, I think," said Dhondaram, as 
they pitched their tents for the servants and soldiers, and 
they themselves took refuge in one of the huts. "To-morrow 
we shall begin to go down the mountains, and we shall be 
among the flowers again." 

" But where are we going, Dhondaram ? I want to go 
and see Gunga and Prita," said Paul. 

The muni had grown more sad as days went by, and it 
made the boy sober. He only stroked the soft cheek, and 
replied, "The day after to-morrow, if I am told truly, you shall 
be with the ones you wish to see." 

" I wish I might see a great many things," said Paul a 
moment later. 

" You will soon know a great many things, and see more," 
replied the muni. 

With returning strength and rapid regaining of health, 
Paul philosophized more than he had ; and, as the muni dropped 



446 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

hint after hint, as though anxious to lead him on, he remem- 
bered more and more, though nothing perfectly. 

Early the next morning they began to go down the 
mountain. Dhondaram had sat all night by the side of his 
charge, communicating something of his own feeling, per- 
haps ; for Paul had waked up several times in the night, but 
always to find the muni bending over him. 

Perhaps it was weariness after such a night, or perhaps it 
was the grandeur of the scenery through which they passed, 
that made both Paul and his friend silent and sad through 
the long morning as they wandered on, more rapidly now, 
for the day's march before them was a long one. 

The tremendous peaks rose against the sky, white as 
marble at the summit; and a soft and most delicate pink tint 
covered the broad snow-fields below. They seemed to Paul 
to be very near, though they were a hundred and fifty miles 
away. The air of the mountains is so clear and pure that 
even the dark outlines of the gorges seemed perfectly defined. 
There was wall after wall of these mountains, not like the 
sharp peaks of ranges anywhere else in the world, but hurled 
together. Great domes and circling crowns, rising in such 
masses as to dispel the impression of their real height, though 
most of them were over twenty thousand feet above the sea. 
Little Paul in his dandi had been higher up than the sum- 
mit of Mont Blanc, the highest peak in Europe. 

As soon as the sun rose, the distant rumbling and low 
grumbling of glaciers, and the occasional thundering of ava- 
lanches and land-slides, filled the air with an incessant din, 
that grew louder and louder as the day wore on. 

The servant who accompanied them from Delhi had left 
earlier than they in the morning ; but he had started earlier 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARL-SAHLB. 



447 



every morning for several days, only to appear again at night. 
To-day, however, it was long before sundown that he returned. 
He hurried to Dhondaram, and anxiously said, " Their coolies 
are setting up the tents on the heights just below. They 
remain there to-night, and go on by way of the clay cara- 
vansarai in the morning." 




THE CAMP ON THE HEIGHTS. 



" Tis well," replied Dhondaram ; and a strange low fire 
seemed lurking in his eyes. " We must reach the caravan- 
sarai, and sleep there to-night. How many are there ? and 
who is the party ? " 

"There are two white men. He is one; and the other 
is from Bombay, with a young man who does not speak the 
languages. Their escort is five Rajpoots ; their company, 
twenty servants." 



448 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" 'Tis well," said Dhondaram again. " Were the escort 
five hundred Rajpoots, or five regiments of British soldiers, 
what would it avail ? Why should I continue flying like a 
cursed sore over a man's body ? Move on ! Move on rapidly ! 
It will be long after dark, and the way is dangerous." 

The train began again to move : and just as the sun was 
setting, they passed the heights that the servant had spoken 
of, where a large European tent was pitched ; and at a little 
distance, on the ground, sat a dozen or more native servants. 
The train moved a little below the heights ; but Dhondaram 
left it, and, walking up to the servants, began to talk with 
them : within full view two Europeans were standing by the 
tent. 

A little later the muni was again beside his charge ; and 
little Paul clasped his hand, and pleaded till he took him out 
of the dandi, and for another hour bore him through the 
darkling jungle upon his shoulder. 

" This is like the time when the boat was smashed," said 
Paul, patting the dark cheek that he could no longer see. 

The sinewy arm clasped close about the child. A shud- 
der shook the strong man. He walked unsteadily. He almost 
fell on the uneven path. 

"If you should fall, I should fall too, shouldn't I?" asked 
the boy, laughing. 

" I will not fall while my Hari-Sahib is on my shoulder," 
replied Dhondaram, strengthening himself to the task, and 
walking more rapidly and firmly. 

"I don't care if you fall," said Paul carelessly: "'twould 
be fun. It wouldn't hurt me." 

"How does the little Hari know that?" asked the muni, 
patting the shoulder upon which his uplifted hand rested. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHLB. 



449 



" Oh ! you wouldn't let it hurt me," replied Paul confi- 
dently. *' I like to be where I'm afraid, and be with you." 

It was dark. He could not see the tears roll down the 
furrowed face of the black-hearted murderer. 

For a moment the muni strode on through the darkness 
in silence. Even the touch of his feet in the track made no 
noise. At last, however, he lifted Paul from his shoulder, 
and took hfm across his breast. It rose and fell in deep and 
painful respirations. 

" Never mind," he said at last : " they will take better care 
of you than Dhondaram can ; for he is rough and rude, and 
only a Hindu. They are like you. They will love you." 
His arms drew so close about the boy as almost to crush 
him, but Paul did not feel the pain. The muni added, " But 
they cannot love you more. No, no. It would be impos- 
sible." 

"Who will?" asked Paul indignantly. 

" You will know to-morrow. To-night you are Dhonda- 
ram's. Yes, to-night you are Dhondaram's." 

" I'm always yours," said Paul, as they reached the clay 
caravansarai. 

In the morning Dhondaram bathed Paul tenderly, and took 
from his bundle the prettiest suit of European clothes. At 
first Paul objected to taking off" the bright Persian costume, 
bordered with fur, and the soft goat-skin robe that had pro- 
tected him so perfectly from the cold : but there was something 
of his dreams in the other clothes ; and they looked so pretty, 
after all, that he began to dance about the absolutely bare 
room of the caravansarai, and called to the roughs mountain 
soldiers that had been their escort, to come in, and look at 
him. 



450 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

The stockings and shoes were almost more than Dhon- 
daram could master. But he who had grimly grasped the 
throat of many a fellow-man, and calmly srood over him to 
see him die of suffocation ; he who had smiled in the ghastly 
eyes that stared at him while his dagger lay buried in the 
victim's heart ; he who had laughed when infuriated crowds 
shouted, " Down with the outlaw Dhondaram ! Curses on the 
terror of India ! " he who had calmly led surging throngs of 
fanatics in even more terrible struggles than those reported 
of the mutiny ; he who knew neither shiver from the frozen 
mountain peaks, nor terror from the torrid heat of the plains, 
whose name was banned, whose heart was fearless, — knelt 
upon the clay floor, and patiently struggled to button the 
little shoes with his rough fingers, while he chatted to keep 
the child from being weary, and jumped about like an acrobat 
at a circus, to make him laugh, when his awkwardness had 
pinched the flesh, and started the tears into the blue eyes. 

The work was done at last, however : and, combing the 
brown hair with its persistent curls as nearly in European 
fashion as his unaccustomed hands could do it, he took a 
jaunty little American hat from the bundle ; and, putting it 
on Paul's head, he stepped back to look at him. And he 
smiled approvingly ; though the iron heart was throbbing hard 
beneath the dark brown breast, and the perspiration standing 
on the broad, stern forehead. 

One of the soldiers entered, and spoke to him. 

"I am none too soon," he replied. " Hold them at bay; 
fire high : there is no need to kill even a Rajpoot. And look 
to your lives that no European is struck by a ball ! All will 
go well : there is no chance for mistake. When they turn and 
retreat, let them go." And taking Paul on his shoulder, he 




HE HEARD A SHARP REPORT. 



452 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



gathered up the bundle of clothes, and into it thrust the 
Persian suit and the warm goatskins. "The little Hari will 
need them perhaps," he said with a sigh ; and from the other 
side of the caravansarai he sprang into the jungle. 

As they left, Paul looked back. He had not understood 
what was said, but realized that there was danger. What did 
he care for it ? He saw the soldiers, rough fellows, to whom 
blood and fighting were second nature, gathering eagerly about 
the door of the caravansarai ; he saw the servant look sadly 
toward Dhondaram, and bow to the ground ; he saw one of the 
soldiers kneel, and rest his gun upon the clay wall by the 
caravansarai-door ; and just as Dhondaram leaped forward, and 
the jungle covered them, he heard a sharp report. 

"What are they doing?" he asked as he clung to the 
muni's neck ; while with leap after leap he sprang through the 
dense growth, and, guided by the shouts of the party that had 
been surprised in approaching the caravansarai, he rapidly 
circumvented them, and paused in a cleft between high rocks, 
where a little brook leaped down into the shadows, — a point 
that they must have lately passed. Here he placed Paul gently 
upon the ground. A flock of wild pigeons started from the 
brook, and circhng about his head flew up the ravine. 

" That is a good omen, little Hari-Sahib," he said, and 
bending over him, whispered hurriedly, " Once more the 
little prayer. Touch the water, kneel by the brook, and say 
it. There" — 

He waited. Paul had well learned it by this time, and 
repeated it without hesitation. 

" Now stay upon the knees for a little while," he added, 
turning his face away as the little blue eyes met his. " I 
must go and see what is the matter, and why they are shooting. 



YOU SHALL BE MY HARI-SAHIB. 453 

Nothing will hurt you here. Say the prayer over and over 
again, and do not move till some one calls you : you will 
be very happy then. Say it once more while I listen. And 
remember ! do not get up from your knees, or something bad 
might happen." 

Paul said the prayer again. He had heard no sound, but 
when he looked up the muni was gone. He started to his 
feet, and would have called ; but he remembered the charge, 
and, kneeling again, repeated the prayer once more, — the little 
Marathi prayer, — without understanding a word of it. 

The rippling brook went dancing by. Paul was only a 
child, and soon had forgotten the surrounding circumstances 
in watching the water, and playing with the pebbles, sure that 
in a little while he should look up and see Dhondaram coming 
back for him. 



454 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



CHAPTER XXV. 




SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 

N reaching Massuri, Mr. Raymond and Scott discov- 
ered a very curious state of things. Roderick Den- 
nett was there, and working as eagerly as ever he 
worked in his Hfe to regain that valuable belt. But 
he worked with fear and trembling, for there was something so 
mysterious in it all that he began to fear foul play from some 
of his enemies. 

A messenger had come to his friend Mobarak in Delhi, 
leaving with him, to be given to Dennett, a package contain- 
ing a lock of Paul's hair, a little shirt that he himself had 
bought for him, and a charm that he had worn about his 
neck. These were accompanied with a message that the boy 
was in the defiles of the Himalaya Mountains, between Amritsar 
and Massuri, and that if he would see him alive he must go 
there for him within a month. He had started at once, but 
when he reached Massuri fear so overcame him that he sent 
for Mr. Raymond. 

"We must begin the search at once," said Mr. Raymond. 
" Never mind the foul play : I think there is none. It is 
probably only a native dodge to see how anxious you are." 

They studied the routes together ; they sent out spies ; 
they made every effort, but in vain. 

" We must go ourselves," said Richard a week later. 
" Scott is hardly well enough to risk the first passes ; but, 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 



455 



while you go over the mountains, we will take the longer 
route on elephants through the lower hills, and meet you on 
the tenth day. From there we will go on together." 

There was no avoiding this, and Dennett accepted the 
terms. 




KAJPOOT GUARD. 



Five of the famously brave Rajpoot soldiers were sent for 
from Delhi to accompany them as escort. 

" I do not like these mountaineers for guards," said Rich- 
ard, " especially when we are attempting to discover any thing 
in which other mountaineers may be interested. We shall 
have to employ them in districts where the rajahs oblige us 
to, but we will have our own men beside." 

Mountaineers were hired to carry the baggage, provisions, 
and tents. 



456 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



"■ What a frightful looking set of fellows ! " exclaimed Scott 
as they came together for the start. " I'd rather trust my life 
with Thugs." 

"They're not so bad as they look," replied Richard. 

" But what in the world do we need such a crowd for?" 
Scott asked. 

" Because the legal burden of these men is the weight 
of twelve quart bottles of water, and not a drop more. It is 
quite enough, too, in some of the climbing." 

"Does every one always pet the same bundle?" asked 
Scott. 

" Not by any means. They will fight for an hour every 
morning for the first choice, if they think one of the bundles 
weighs a little less than the rest." 

" They look like regular buck-knots for toughness," Scott 
remarked, with a shadow of admiration after all for the ungainly 
fellows. 

"So they are," replied his friend; "and yet the chances 
are, that at the foot of every bad hill they come to they will 
lie down and begin to cry." 

"What for?" asked Scott. 

" Oh ! they will say that you are killing them with over- 
work ; that you have brought them up there expressly to 
murder them ; and that they are dying, while you look on 
and do not care a straw." 

"What can one do with them?" questioned Scott again. 

"Why, the best way is to tell them they are quite correct 
about it, and let them get over it as soon as they like : unless 
one is in a hurry, and then he must give them some back- 
sheesh ; that is what they really want." 

" I'd give them a thrashing instead," said Scott. 




THE MOTTNTAIN COOLIES. 



458 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" It is sometimes quite refreshing to pound them a Httle, 
but they take it so meekly that one gets tired of it." 

" But can't they learn in time what is wanted of them, and 
that they must behave ? " Scott asked impatiently. 

" That's quite impossible," replied Richard ; "for we shall 
have to change them at every important town we come to. 
The same set of fellows never go but a little way. They 
spend their lives in going back and forth between two 
places." 

The Himalaya Mountains are formed like a gigantic stair- 
case, extending from the plains about Delhi and Agra to the 
inaccessible heights of which Kailas and many others are the 
upper tier, with Everest over twenty-nine thousand feet above 
the sea. The lower step of this great staircase is the elevated 
jungle rising out of the Terai, that swarms with ferocious 
beasts and venomous reptiles. During the season of rains, 
when the spongy Terai becomes nothing more or less than 
the most poisonous malarial swamp in existence, even the 
beasts are driven out, and take shelter in these jungles. 

For three days Scott rode upon a small elephant, while 
Mr. Raymond followed upon a larger one, with a few servants 
behind, carrying the necessary baggage. They did not need 
the tents and clothing, as they depended upon caravansarais 
and villages. Richard had suggested taking their rifles, as 
there was a good chance for game at this season. This 
was a fortunate thing ; for about noon on the second day, 
while Scott was almost asleep under the easy motion of the 
elephant, he was suddenly roused by a shrill cry from the 
beast, and a decided spring for that clumsy animal. 

Scott opened his eyes instantly. The head and trunk of 
the animal were stretched out as far as possible. Richard 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 



459 



called from behind. Scott turned in time to see a large 
tiger in mid-air, as if flying directly toward him. It was a 
peculiar sensation, to meet something that belonged on terra- 
firma gliding through the air like a bird, with no apparent 
exertion ; but Scott had not long to enjoy the novelty. 

Thanks to the elephant, whose little eyes had discovered 
the tiger as he sprang, and who had strained every nerve to 




SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER. 



get out of his way, the creature missed the high aim of the 
kowdak, and struck on the haunches of the beast that bore 
it. There he stuck tight, fastening his great yellow claws in 
the elephant's flesh. 

" He'll stop there for a minute. Shoot steady and sure 
for his breast, Scott," called Mr. Raymond, as he .urged the 
mahout to drive his own elephant faster, and overtake the 
other. 



46o OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

The tone and timely warning had a strong tendency to 
quiet Scott's excitement ; and, quickly placing his rifle to his 
shoulder, he aimed for the tiger's breast, and fired. The 
moment the rifle sounded, the mahout turned the elephant. 
This was in rule, but Scott did not know of it ; and, as the 
beast fell with a fierce howl to the ground, Scott was thrown 
on his back, but fortunately not out of the hoivdah. This 
sudden turning has the effect to throw the tiger if he is 
only wounded, — as proved to be the case, — instead of 
allowing him to still cling, and possibly climb higher. In 
this case it also allowed Richard a chance to catch up. 

" Up again, Scott, be lively," cried Richard as they came 
abreast each other. " He will spring again in an instant. Take 
my rifle. Look out ! There he comes. Kill him this time." 

The tiger lunged, tore the earth for an instant, and, see- 
ing the elephant, made another dive ; but in his haste he 
missed his aim again, and only caught his fore-shoulder. 
There he clung, looking up at Scott with his red tongue and 
purple gullet and glistening teeth but a few feet from the 
kowdah, while hoarse and harsh his breath came wheezing 
and grating. Scott's hand trembled. He drew back from the 
fearful jaws. 

" Give it to him ! Give it to him, Scott ! " exclaimed Mr. 
Raymond, seeing him under the spell of peculiar terror that 
so often benumbs one when first he faces one of the kings 
of those Indian forests ; utterly unable to move, while he 
stood with his eyes fixed on the tiger, that now began creep- 
ing up toward the kowdah. Then he had his mahout push 
the elephants together ; and, even before they met, he sprang 
from his kowdah, catching on the back of Scott's elephant. 
Clambering up with the rapidity of thought almost, he stood 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 461 

beside the boy as the tiger's paw rested on the opposite side 
of the howdah. 

This caused Scott to recover the presence of mind that 
had entirely forsaken him, and that has forsaken many an older 
man than he under the same circumstances. He stepped 
bravely forward, and, hardly waiting to aim, placed the muz- 
zle of the gun to the animal's mouth, and fired. The tiger 
sprang for the rifle ; but, before his jaws closed, he fell back, 
and in a moment more lay dead upon the ground. 

" Killed your first tiger ! " exclaimed Richard, slapping the 
trembling boy upon the shoulder. 

" Why didn't you shoot him, instead of giving me the 
rifle?" asked Scott as he climbed from the howdah of the 
elephant that now lay on the ground, and approached his 
first tiger. 

"What was the use? He was yours, and you were per- 
fectly able to attend to him. 'Twould have been against 
etiquette." 

" No, I wasn't able to attend to him," replied Scott. " If 
you had not come, I should have stood there, and let him 
have me." 

"That's because he was your first," said Richard. "The 
natives say that no man is a safe hunter till he's felt a tiger's 
breath. Now you've felt it, and the next time you'll have no 
fear of that sort." 

Moro and Sayad soon came up with the light baggage. 
They were not skilled in the trade, but they succeeded in 
skinning the tiger ; and with the fur, the proudest trophy of 
his wanderings in India, Scott mounted the elephant again, 
and they moved on more rapidly to make up for lost time. 
. The next day they left the elephants, and went on by 



462 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



dandi. Scott found it a most uncomfortable mode ; for he 
did not make the selection that Dhondaram had for Paul, and 
had no native to walk beside, and keep the bearers in 
time and temper. They succeeded in swinging" the dandi 
back and forth like a pendulum, and letting him strike against 
every rock and sharp corner by the way, that they could possi- 
bly reach. When the way was particularly narrow, as it always 
is in the Himalayas, through inanimate perversity, when it 
leads along the brink of a precipice that is particularly high, 
the bearers always carried the pole on the outside shoulder ; 
and as Scott peered over the edge of the bag in which he 
rode, and saw the forests hundreds of feet below, it made his 
blood run cold, where Paul had only laughed. 

" I wonder what would happen if one of these fellows 
should shrug that outside shoulder ? " he said to Richard with 
a shudder as they rode side by side in an open place after 
crossing one of those precipices. 

"Heaven only knows," replied Mr. Raymond. "And I 
hope that neither you nor I will ever find out." 

" Well, I am frightened to death in front, and bruised to 
jelly behind," said Scott. " If there's any other kind of en- 
gines here, I'm in for trying them. Haven't they any horses ? " 

" Plenty of them, and terrors they are too, I tell you. 
Over rough places like this the fellows will jump from rock 
to rock like chamois in the Alps, lighting all fours together 
every time, on little rocks that you could hardly stand on. 
And the little brutes will shie like the mischief too ; and you 
know a horse will always back when he is frightened, without 
caring a straw where his hind feet are going. If that happens 
to be on a precipice, over you go before you can say boo ! " 

" I'd jump off," said Scott. 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 453 

"No, you wouldn't," replied Richard: "you would cling 
to the horse and saddle for life. Then you see how the 
natives that we meet with packs on their backs always take 
the inside, and sometimes even stop and balance the bundles 
against the rocks, to watch us pass." 

" Well, they are enough to frighten any living horse ! " 
exclaimed Scott. "But is there nothing else?" 

" There are yaks, Scott ; and at the next village, where 
the dandi wallahs leave us, we will try and get some. They 
are safe as the mountains themselves. I never heard of a 
yak falling, or losing a passenger." 

"They'd be as good as a Cunard steamer, then," suggested 
Scott, who had found to his sorrow that the fact that a line 
has never lost a passenger is not the only requisite to a 
comfortable passage. 

" But they are ugly enough to frighten all the peasants 
in the mountains ; and when you are off their backs, take 
care ! They regard white men as the bane of all their misery, 
and go for them at every chance." 

" Never mind that, if they are all right when I'm once on 
board," replied Scott; "for indeed I'm completely mashed to 
pieces here." 

While they were talking, a small caravan passed them ; and 
the leader, bowing very politely, saluted them, — 

" Bonesore, Sahib." 

" My bones are rather sore, thank you," replied Scott, as 
politely as possible ; but as soon as they had passed he said 
to Richard, " Wasn't that rather cheeky, to ask me if my 
bones were sore?" 

Mr. Raymond laughed till the bearers almost lost their 
balance, but at last succeeded in gasping, " He has only 



464 (^UR BOYS IN INDIA. 

learned a little French, Scott, and was trying to say ' bon 
soir' to you." 

" Bother his French," growled Scott : "I wish I was on 
the back of a yak." 

They had one more steep ledge to climb ; and, while cross- 
ing, an incident occurred that caused Scott to declare more 
decidedly than ever in favor of the yak. When they were 
nearly half-way over one of the narrowest ledges, where a 
steep incline rose above them, and fell away again from their 
feet, a sudden roar aroused them, — a crashing and thundering 
from above. 

Scott was then some distance behind Mr. Raymond, and 
was unceremoniously dropped in the path, dandi and all, while 
the bearers ran for their lives in opposite directions. 

Before he could extricate himself, a mass of rock and dirt 
rushed down the steep declivity at a tremendous velocity, like 
the most formidable avalanche. By good fortune the bearers 
had missed in their calculations ; and it passed a little behind, 
only covering him with dust. 

At the foot of the ravine, there was a rushing river of no 
very dignified proportions ; but it had succeeded in tearing 
away the frail bridge that crossed it. 

" What in creation ! " groaned Scott as they approached. 
" What are those fellows carrying on their backs ? Young 
oxen ? " 

" Ferry-boats," roared Richard. 

"Ferry-boats? For mercy's sake!" 

When they reached the stream, the natives turned a half 
somerset, landing the mussok-skins stuffed with straw upon 
their sides in the water. 

"How much does this show cost?" asked Scott, as they 
landed safe and dry at last. 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 465 

" Just a half of one cent apiece," replied Richard solemnly. 

" Great Caesar's ghost ! " muttered Scott, as he again seated 
himself in the dandi, and was borne up the opposite hill : "I 
suppose the benighted fellows think they are doing a good 
business." 

One of the first things Scott saw upon approaching the 
village was a great, grim, ugly, ungainly yak. He knew at 
first sight that it was a yak, for in all his circus-going he had 
never seen any thing so horrible. There was an old man 
holding the creature by a ring in his nose. 

" What a haul Barnum would make if he could have that 
thing on his bill, man and all ! " Scott observed admiringly, 
estimating his chances on the creature's back, from a safe 
distance. The old man was muttering, — 

" Om, Om, Om, Om, Om, Om ! " as rapidly as possible, 
and took no notice of them. 

"What's the matter with him? Is he sick?" asked Scott 
as they passed. 

" He is going somewhere with the yak ; and before he 
starts he is saying a part of the great Llama prayer," replied 
Richard. " ' Om mani padme hum,' is the sum and sub- 
stance of their longest prayer ; and the more they say that 
word ' Om,' which is the name of God, so much the holier 
they are." 

They entered the house that usually served as an inn for 
those who did not wish to provide for themselves at the 
caravansarai. 

Here was an old woman cooking over a hole in the floor, 
and a young woman sitting by the fire, with two boys about 
three years old on her knees. She was swinging something 
like an old-fashioned watchman's rattle over the children's 



466 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

heads, and saying " Om, Om, Om, Om, Om ! " just like the 
old fellow with the yak. 

" She's got it too, and got it bad," said Scott with a sigh ; 
" but what has she in her hand ? " 

"A praying-stick," replied Richard. "That same prayer 
is written all over that stick, and every time it turns round 
it is as good as repeating the prayer as many times as it is 
written on the stick. Didn't you see the men that came up 
with us stop at those little wheels by the way, and set them 
spinning ? " 

" Of course I did, but I thought they did it for fun. So 
they were praying- sticks too. And I suppose the young 
woman there is going it double, turning the stick and saying 
the prayer at the same time, because she has twins." 

Richard spoke for a moment with four or five men sitting 
about the hut, who had moved a little, without more ado than 
a simple salutation, to make room for them as they came in. 
Then turning to Scott, he replied, — 

" That boy on her right knee is her son, and the other 
one is her husband." 

" Husband ! " exclaimed Scott, " why, I thought one of 
those grown fellows was her husband." 

" So they are, every one of them ; and she has two more 
out in the mountains, with two husbands of the old woman 
there, who is their mother." 

" Great Caesar ! that's worse than harems," said Scott. " I'll 
have to tell mother about this. Is that the way they all do 
business here ? " 

" That is the way they all do business here ; for you know 
we have got well up into the mountains now, and down on 
the Thibitan side is one great centre of polyandry." 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAI PRIZE. 467 

"Poor things," groaned Scott: "there are women in 
America who can't stand one : wouldn't they open their eyes 
if we should tell them about this ? " 

Two days of climbing upon yak-back proved much more 
comfortable than the days in the dandi, and brought them to 
the meeting-place, where Roderick Dennett was already en- 
camped ; and two days more brought them to the heights 
where they pitched their tents, where Paul and Dhondaram 
passed them just as the sun was setting. 

Little Paul had not even seen the camp. The dandi in 
which he was carried was purposely turned, that it might open 
on the other side. Dhondaram had calmly walked up to the 
servants, and conversed with them : he had asked them where 
they were going, and many questions about the members of 
the party. 

In the morning there was snow half a foot deep over 
the ground ; but with the first rays of sunlight the snow dis- 
appeared like a morning mist, while from under it there 
suddenly appeared a thick carpet of beautiful mountain 
flowers, just as fresh and fragrant as if they had only come 
from a bath in the morning dew. Even the glacier that they 
crossed an hour later was a broad river of mountain flowers. 

As Scott's eyes became weary of watching the changes 
with the rising of the flashing, glaring sun, he went toward 
the cook, who sat by his fire, A pot of tea was boiling 
furiously ; yet he saw the fellow pour out a cup for himself, 
and drink it down without waiting a moment for it to cool. 

" He must have a throat of cast iron," said Scott to Mr. 
Raymond, who had joined him ; but he opened his eyes in 
astonishment when Richard went up to the fire, and did 
precisely the same thing. 



468 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

" Try it," said Richard, giving him the steaming cup. He 
daintily touched it to his lips, and looked up in surprise. 

" Why, it is hardly warmer than new milk ! " he exclaimed : 
" it must cool rapidly." 

"It is not that exactly," Richard replied; "but when you 
have graduated from college you will know, that, on general 
principles, at this elevation water will boil away before it is 
really hot. You couldn't boil a leg of mutton here if you 
should try all day. But breakfast is ready, and we must be 
under way. We have a few more places to search before we 
climb the highest pass and go down on the other side," 

" What a place for Englishmen this would be ! " Scott 
remarked, still thinking of the boiled mutton, as he sat down 
on the ground and began his breakfast. 

At the end of a two hours' march they were brought to 
a stand by a shot from a mountain soldier's gun, fired from 
above the parapet of a caravansarai, at an incline of forty-five 
degrees above them. 

"Stop, stop!" cried Dennett: "there is trouble there! 
There are robbers, or no one knows what not. W^ait till I 
go back and hurry on the rest of the escort." 

They drew back a little out of range, and held a consul- 
tation ; but nothing but his first proposition would satisfy 
Roderick Dennett. He had no intention of advancing into 
unknown danger, and started back, resolved that the others 
should try the danger before he threw himself into it. 

"Coward!" said Richard scornfully, when the man had 
disappeared. "There is no danger. The fellow fired into 
the air. We will go on." 

So they started forward again, without Dennett, after 
having waited less than half an hour ; when an old, totter- 



SCOTT'S FIRST TIGER, AND FINAL PRIZE. 



469 



ing, ragged, dirt-grimed pilgrim came slowly up the way 
behind them, climbing with difficulty, and bending wearily 
upon a knotted cane. 

He had almost reached them, when, seeing that they were 
moving on, he hailed them in a weak voice. They waited. 

" You are white. You are Englishmen," he said, catch- 
ing his breath like one who had very little to spare for speak- 



'', ^t 



■ V' 



-«.'. '•' 



/'■ 









'A 













v.v..~ 



JS^ 






A**' 




■ PAUL I PAUL I ' 



ing. " I climbed up a little brook to reach yonder haven by 
a short cut. You will cross it down the track, and going 
down the stream you will go as I came. I passed a little 
child down there. He was kneeling by the water, weeping. 
He was white : I could not touch him ; but you might," he 
added with a scornful sneer. 

Electrified by the intelligence, Mr. Raymond . and Scott 
turned back down the narrow way, without waiting to hear 
more. They had hardly gone a quarter of a mile when before 



470 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



them, in the path, upon his back, stark dead and staring at 
the sky, lay Roderick Dennett. His face was horribly dis- 
colored, and his throat swollen from strangling, while blood- 
stains on his vest betrayed a dagger-thrust. 

They stood for a moment aghast, when Richard discovered 
something printed in blood upon the bosom of the dead 
man's shirt. 

He bent forward, and in Marathi read, — 

"The .last of the 'condemned.' The eighty-third traitor 
who has fallen beneath the hand of Dhondaram for his trea- 
son to India. The muni has fulfilled his vows. The outlaw 
has avenged his country. Dhondaram is no more." 

"Scott," said Richard, rising, "you said once that you 
would like to see Dhondaram." 

" So I did," replied Scott, standing, very pale, before the 
corpse. 

"That old pilgrim was the man. This is his last victim." 

Scott started. "And Paul!" he gasped. 

" I do not know," said Richard. " It may be only an ac- 
cident that he took this way of bringing us here. Let us 
go on." 

Strained to the utmost in every nerve, Scott hurried on 
faster than Richard could follow him. He found the brook: 
he leaped from rock to rock to follow it. He sprang through 
a narrow cleft. Before him knelt a little child playing with 
the water. 

" Paul ! Paul ! " burst from his lips. 

The boy looked up. He started back. The veil that had 
shrouded the past was suddenly swept away. 

" O Scott ! my Scott ! " he cried, and sprang into his 
arms. 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 471 




CHAPTER XXVI. 

IT ^WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM! 

]NLY the narrow space between the time that Paul 
left his father's house with Roderick Dennett till he 
took the hand of the muni always remained a period 
of the utmost uncertainty to him. The happy hours 
at home, he remembered all of them. The time that he spent 
with the muni, he never forgot one minute of it. It was a 
long time before he perfectly discriminated between Hindu- 
stani and English, in speaking ; and it was one of the most 
curious sensations that Scott had ever experienced, to hear 
his petted little baby brother chatting briskly with the Hindus 
and Mussulmans, ordering them about, understanding their 
ways, and explaining to him their peculiar customs. 

When Richard came upon the brothers, still locked in each 
other's embrace, he could not refrain from wonder at the rosy 
cheeks, the tastefully curling hair, the bright blue eyes, the 
fashionable little suit of clothes, the shining boots, and the 
dignified bearing, which latter had been instinctively copied 
from Dhondaram. 

When at last they turned to leave the place, Paul pointed 
to the bundle that had followed him so long, and in Hindu- 
stani said, — 

"There are my clothes. But I am not going- away till 
Dhondaram comes back." 

" Dhondaram ! " Richard started, and looked at Scott. 
Scott cauofht the name, and looked at Richard. 



472 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



" Who is Dhondaram, Paul ? " Mr. Raymond asked. 

" I am Hari-Paul : not Paul all alone," replied the boy 
promptly. " Dhondaram called me his Hari-Sahib ; and 
Dhondaram, — don't you know him ? He is one of the best 
men in the world. Dhondaram ! Oh, he is the very best ! 
He is my servant, my horse, my every thing. No indeed ! 
I'll not go till Dhondaram comes." 

It was two hours before they could persuade the boy, with 
tears in his eyes, to go away from the spot where Dhonda- 
ram had left him. 

From that moment they made the most rapid progress 
possible toward the south. And many and many a word that 
Paul spoke of his friend, the muni, as they went, brought 
fresh astonishment to Mr. Raymond, as it told of the heart 
in Dhondaram's breast. Morning and night, and whenever 
they halted by a stream, Richard noted with horror that little 
Paul carefully bathed his face and hands, and repeated some- 
thing very gravely, with his hands clasped before him, while 
he knelt with his head bowed. He supposed it was some 
Hindu devotion that Dhondaram had taught him. But at last 
he succeeded in beingr near enoup^h to overhear the little 
Marathi prayer. Scott was beside him, and, noticing his 
emotion, asked, — 

"What is it, Mr. Raymond?" 

Richard did not answer directly ; but, as Paul rose from 
his" knees, he asked, — 

"Where did you learn that, Paul?" 

" Call me Hari-Paul," said the boy sternly. " If I have 
lost my dear, dear Dhondaram, I will not lose the name he 
gave me. He taught me that prayer, and taught me how to 
say it; and I will always say it, — yes, I will always say it." 



IT V/AS MY OWN DHONDARAM. .70 

"That is right, Hari-Paul, say it always, — always say it," 
replied Richard fervently ; and Paul loved him better from 
that moment. Then turning to Scott, with tears in his eyes, 
Richard replied, " It is, — 

" ' Our Father which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.' " 

" Dhondaram told me that no one would ever say I should 
not repeat that prayer," said Paul triumphantly. 

They were bound for Calcutta, but on the way were 
obliged to stop for a day at Benares, as Mr. Raymond wanted 
to see the half-caste foreman concerning some of Roderick 
Dennett's papers that he could not fully understand ; and to 
occupy the time pleasantly for Paul, who still was often very 
sad over the loss of his friend, they drove all the afternoon 
about the outskirts of the city. It was a Hindu festival. All 
the temples were crowded with pilgrims. In their brightest 
holiday attire were the priests and dancing-girls in the Temple 
of Bhowani, in the extreme suburbs of the city. The sight 
was so tempting that Richard proposed that they stop and 
watch the ceremony. 

It was early for the special service before the Mother ; and 
while some of the mtirli girls clustered about the altar, some 
were yet at the tank, where they had been bathing as a form 
of purification. Beyond this tank stretched the plain, dotted 
with ruins, and the road leading toward Sarnath, where Scott 
had driven with Mr. Raymond. 

It was a picturesque spot, bordered by clusters of flowering 
shrubs, made more attractive by the bright costumes of the 
dancers in several little groups about the tank. The three wan- 
dered through the throng down toward it, instead- of entering 
the temple. Beside the marble steps, leaning against the para- 
pet and one of the slender shrubs, stood one of the principal 



474 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



and most beautiful dancers. She had thrown her sari behind 
her, and laid some of her ornaments upon the ledge, prepara- 
tory to stepping into the bath ; but she had evidently forgotten 
the temple, its accessories, the dance, and the throng that was 
gathering, and in her thoughts was far away, — perhaps on 
the snowy slopes of the mountains, perhaps in the humid 
heat of the plains, surely not where she was standing. 

Scott pointed to the girl, and said to Mr. Raymond, " How 
sad she looks ! I wonder what troubles her." 

Paul followed the direction ; and what was the astonishment 
of the two when he broke from them, and, rushing toward her, 
sprang into her arms, crying " Gunga ! O Gunga ! " 

What was their amazement when the beautiful 'inurli bent 
forward, and, clasping the little fellow to her heart, burst into a 
passionate flood of tears. 

As they drew near, they heard Paul ask eagerly, " O 
Gunga ! where is Dhondaram ? I am crying ! I am dying for 
my Dhondaram ! " 

" Dhondaram is in prison, bound with chains, in Calcutta," 
Gunga answered sadly. 

Richard frowned, and said anxiously to Scott, " I read in 
the papers this morning that Dhondaram had given himself 
up to the English, and was taken to Calcutta. I did not dare 
to speak of it, for I feared that Paul might hear." 

" O Gunga, it must not be so ! I will break the chains ! 
No one shall hurt my Dhondaram ! " said Paul. 

" But he did it himself," answered Gun^a. " He sent me 
word that I must not try to help him, for he would have it 
as it was." 

" But O Gunga, I love him so ! " sobbed Paul. 

"And so do I," said Gunga sadly. "He is my father." 



476 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



It was not until Gunga was obliged to prepare for the tem- 
ple that Paul would leave her; and then only on the positive 
promise that as soon as was possible he should be allowed 
to see her again, but that first he must go to his home in 
America. He little dreamed how far away it was. 

They went on to Calcutta. Paul remembered the name, 
and demanded that he be taken to see Dhondaram. It was 
a strangely affecting sight, the meeting of the two, — the 
hardened criminal, as the law considered the muni, weeping 
over and caressing the blue-eyed boy ; and the little white 
hands fondling the roughly furrowed face. 

Paul would not leave him ; and through Mr. Raymond's 
intervention Dhondaram was moved to a better room, that 
was carefully guarded ; and Paul remained with him over night, 
sleeping, as he had not slept since the night in the clay 
caravansarai, on the arm of the cold-blooded murderer. 

Mr. Raymond stopped at the Great Eastern Hotel, in the 
English quarter of the immense city, where he was well 
known and as influential as Scott had found him all over 
India. He exerted himself to the utmost to do something 
for Dhondaram in the few days that remained before the 
steamer sailed from that port, by which they should return 
to America by way of the beautiful island of Ceylon. He 
secured a promise that the utmost mercy of the law should 
be extended, and finally, to the astonishment of all, that the 
sentence of death should not be passed in case the muni would 
take the most solemn of his oaths, and swear on the neck 
of the little Paul that he was entirely penitent, would never 
attempt to escape and resume his former life, and would give 
the government information that should result in the capture 
of Nana Sahib. 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 477 

The court-room was crowded with prominent officials, all 
anxious to see the famous Dhondaram. He was led in in 
chains ; and many a low hiss sounded from different parts 
of the room, to which he paid no attention, as proudly he 
walked between the soldiers to his position. Paul was sitting 
on the opposite side of the bar ; and, in spite of every 
endeavor to restrain him, he walked across the room directly 
in front of the highest dignitaries of the law, paying no heed 
to them, and fondly clasped the hard hand of Dhondaram in 
both of his. An audible murmur ran over the room, but 
neither Paul nor the muni noticed it. 

The officer rose ; and, when order was gained, the long list 
of charges was read, and the deserved condemnation of death 
alluded to. 

" If you kill my Dhondaram, I will kill you ! " cried the 
clear, ringing voice of a child ; and many started, and looked 
in astonishment at the flushed face of little Paul. But, without 
heeding the interruption, the officer read the terms upon which 
the death-sentence mio^ht be relieved. 

The room was still. All waited breathlessly the reply of 
the outlaw. 

" Dhondaram gave himself up to the English because 
he was ready to receive what they might have for him," he 
replied slowly, with true Hindu dignity. " It was not to 
re-purchase his freedom. Had he wished to be free, he 
would be free this day. No one captured him : no one was 
able to. And do you think that Dhondaram came here to 
be a traitor to his own ? Did any one ever hear of Dhon- 
daram's betraying a friend of India ? " He waited a moment : 
then added solemnly, " No worm upon the ground, no bird in 
the air, shall be able to say over the ashes of Dhondaram, 



478 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



that he was a traitor. No ! not though the EngHsh burn me 
ahve, as they have one of my countrymen ; not though they 
blow me to pieces from the cannon's mouth, as they have many 
of my people ; not though they torture me, defile me, hang 
me, starve me to death, as they have thousands of Hindus 
already. And do the English think that I would take an 
oath, even to do what I wished to do, upon this little neck, 
more sacred to me than all my gods ? " He laid his hand 
tenderly over the clustering brown hair. " No ! not for life and 
liberty ! No ! not for the surety of an eternity of bliss in the 
paradise of Indra would I defile this little one with an oath 
of the blood-stained Dhondaram ! " 

A murmur of applause replaced the hisses that had greeted 
the entrance of the muni. He was remanded to prison. But 
Mr. Raymond assured Paul that there was no danger of the 
sentence of death being passed, and that he must return to 
India by and by, and see his friend again. 

The child's heart was partially comforted by this ; and, as 
they had one day left before the steamer sailed, they spent it 
in riding about the city to try and occupy his mind. But he 
was much more interested in stopping on their way home upon 
one of the little branches of the Hoogly, where native boats 
were moored all along the banks, and native farmers who 
had come down with their products were wandering on the 
sand waiting for purchasers. 

In a peculiar way Paul had eaten the lotos that draws 
many an older Occidental heart back again to Oriental India ; 
and he laughed and chatted with the peasants, and dug in 
the sand with the native children, just as he had often played 
upon the coast at Beverly. 

Mr. Raymond was too well pleased to see him enjoying 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 



479 



himself to disturb the pleasure, and he and Scott sat together 
on the bank. 

" There are thousands of more beautiful things in India 
that you have not seen than all we have looked at, Scott," 
said he ; " and I hope some other time to be able to show 




BLACK MARBLE CHAMBER. 



them to you ; but the first steamer will be none too soon 
to take Paul back to anxious hearts that are waiting for him. 
There is a magnificent palace not far from here, with an 
enormous hall of three galleries, divided by long rows of black- 
marble pillars, wonderfully carved, that I wish you might see 
when the sun is setting, as it is now, and its red light floods 
the long galleries, making a dark garnet and purple out 



48o 



OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 



of the black : you would think it one of the grandest corri- 
dors in the world. Then there is all of Southern India. Oh, 
there is a wonderful world that you have not seen yet ! You 
must surely come again." 

" I certainly shall," replied Scott earnestly. 

" You will stop for a few hours at Madras, on the southern 
coast, as you go down to Ceylon in the steamer, and a few 
hours at the beautiful and almost landlocked harbor of Point 
de Galle, on the Island of Ceylon, where an unbroken line 
of cocoanut-palms grows upon the very water's edge. You 
must make the most of the time you have at each of those 
places." 

" / must ? " Scott asked, looking up in surprise. " Are 
you not going too ? " 

" I am very sorry, but I cannot go," Richard replied sadly. 
" I have had my vacation ; and I have work that I must at- 
tend to at once in Bombay, in connection with Roderick 
Dennett's misdeeds. But a very dear friend of mine, a mis- 
sionary from the interior, leaves with his family on the steamer 
for America, and will be delighted to do every thing for you 
and Paul. You will have a very pleasant trip. You will carry 
very good news too. I will give you a sealed package con- 
taining Dennett's confession of the bank-robbery, entirely 
freeing your father from the suspicion that he must have 
been complicated in some way ; and by good fortune I shall 
be able to send security, too, for nearly the entire amount of 
which Dennett robbed the bank, for I have learned of several 
large deposits that he made here." ...... 

" But there is the reward for finding Paul," said Scott, 
" and all of my expenses." 

" I have had a very pleasant visit from you, Scott," replied 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 48 1 

Richard, smiling. " I shall be very glad to pay your expenses 
over here again, any tirne that you will come to see me. I 
do not want the money. The only living relative I have is my 
sister in Beverly, who is well married, and needs nothing. I 
am abundantly wealthy, and have no family. There is no use 
in my hoarding up money. Besides, yoit, . found Paul. I did 
not find him. I suppose there would be perhaps a legal 
claim for me, so I have enclosed an order for the money to 
be paid to you." 

" You are a very strange man," Scott stammered. 

" I told you long ago," Richard answered, smiling, " that 
you must never take it for granted that what any one does 
is through purely disinterested motives. It will not do. I 
wanted to find Roderick Dennett. I should have taken any 
amount of pains to find him. He escaped from me on the 
express to London, when I followed him there. I told you 
how while we were in England. Do you remember ? " 

" Was that the man that the old woman stopped the car 
for ? " asked Scott in surprise. 

" That was the very man. I did not know then that he 
had gone to America. No one knew it ; for no one knew 
his real name, till I chanced to read the old name in a Boston 
paper, as cashier of your father's bank. I went to America 
expressly to find him. I have accomplished the business much 
better than I could if he had remained there. And all I 
ask of you, Scott, is, that you let me know, by and by, how 
you dispose of the money." 

"That I can tell you now," replied Scott earnestly. " Half 
of it I shall give to the American Board for India as soon 
as I receive it, and the other half I shall save to distribute 
here myself. I made up my mind to one thing a long time 
ago — a month at least," he hesitated. 



482 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

"What was that?" asked Mr. Raymond. 

" Why, Paul and I broke wishbones with Bess and Kittie 
at the party the night he was stolen. We each had the long 
end. Paul wished that he might see India, and I wished that 
I might have an opportunity to be a hero. Paul has had his 
wish, and I have had mine. I saw what good people the 
Hindus might be, and what kind of a hero it was that I ought 
to be ; and I promised myself that if we found Paul all safe, 
and took him back to America again, I would be a mis- 
sionary : and so I will." 

" God bless you, Scott ! " exclaimed Mr. Raymond fer- 
vently. " You have your wish, — an opportunity to be a hero. 
Go it with all your soul. Be a good missionary, and you will 
be one of the greatest heroes on earth. Paul has set you 
an example already as to the right way to work, in his power 
over that strange man Dhondaram. Go it, Scott. You're on 
the right track." 

The steamer was a large one, and was lying in the river 
instead of at the wharf. They were obliged to take a boat 
to reach her. Paul rebelled against going away without seeing 
Dhondaram ; but Mr. Raymond at last succeeded in persuad- 
ing him, as he feared a last interview. 

When they reached the wharves, a long ride from the city 
proper, one of the ugly, hooded boatmen caught Paul in his 
arms, and ran for a dingi. 

"Confound their impertinence!" muttered Richard. "These 
boatmen will do any thing to secure passengers. I've a mind 
to refuse him." 

" It doesn't matter," replied Scott. " One dingi is as good 
as another. It is only for a moment." 



IT WAS MY OWN DHONDARAM. 



483 



They reached the steamer ; and, as the same fellow again 
took Paul in his arms to carry him up the swinging steps, 
Mr. Raymond and Scott went on ahead. 

As Paul was being borne up the ladder, the boatman put 
his lips close to the child's ear, and whispered eagerly, — 

" Hari-Sahib, don't speak ! don't speak, or they will kill 
me. No dungeon-bars could keep me from asking a blessing 




■rHE LAST OF INDIA. 



from my Hari before he left. Remember the little prayer 1 
taught you, and pray for me, that I may be your servant, 
your horse, your dog, in the Christian heaven where you will 
go. Pray for my Gunga and Prita and Kashibai too. Let us 
all follow you, Hari ! my Hari ! " 

Paul threw his arms around the rough boatman's neck, 
and kissed his dark lips, just as they reached the top of the 
ladder. The boatman hastily freed himself, and, seeing that 
Mr. Raymond and Scott were looking at him, he bent very 



484 OUR BOYS IN INDIA. 

low, and, kissing the little white hands, pressed them upon 
his forehead. Then, without rising again so that they could 
see his face, he ran down the ladder, and into the boat. 

The missionary was standing beside Mr. Raymond, and 
remarked carelessly, " These superstitious fellows are very 
eager to receive a blessing from any one going on a long 
journey." Then taking Paul's hand, he said, " Well, Master 
Paul, I trust we shall be the best of friends before we reach 
America." 

Paul snatched his hand away. " No, sir ! " he exclaimed 
in Hindustani (for in his excitement he had forgotten which 
language he should speak) : " not if you call me Paul. Hari 
is my name, and always shall be." (A resolve that he still 
firmly adheres to.) 

"Very well, then," replied the missionary: '* I will always 
call you Harry. It is a very pretty name." 

But Mr. Raymond had seen more than the blessing that 
the missionary spoke of; and, taking Paul in his arms, he 
whispered, " Hari-Paul, did you know the boatman who brought 
you up ? " 

Paul looked at him suspiciously for a moment ; but, read- 
ing only friendship in his eyes, he answered with a sob, — 

" It was my own Dhondaram." 






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